


The Sound of Redemption

by mrspadrona



Series: The 'Auana Club [19]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU-Bikers, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluffy Bikers, Love/Hate, M/M, Murder, Slash, Smut, So much smut, The Auana Club, Violence, don't hate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 15:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10902213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrspadrona/pseuds/mrspadrona
Summary: Steve McGarrett was the son of Jack McGarrett, born and bred 'Auana MC 1%. He grew up expecting to follow his father's footsteps but before he could patch in, the Yakuza assassinated his mother and he left for the Navy.20 years have gone by since the day he'd left.20 years since he wore leather.Now he's back with 'Auana and he has something new. A list.A list with three names on it.Those three people won't know what happened.Or is it Steve who won't know what happened? Will he be able to protect his family without losing himself to revenge?





	1. Chapter 1

1 May 1992

Steve pulled up to the front of King Intermediate School and turned off the engine. A quick look at his watch told him there was ten more minutes before the release bell sounded and Mary would be coming out. Steve had promised his Mom this morning that he’d pick Mare up from school so she’d be free to visit Alison Lu’apo; Alison’s ol man was being transferred from Halawa to the mainland and Doris had wanted to be with her. He’d also promised that he wouldn’t pick her up on his bike. He figured a fifty-fifty split between keeping a promise and breaking a promise evened things out. At fifteen, Mary wasn’t old enough to drive anything more powerful than her dirt bike but she had the bug and took every chance possible to ride. He’d figured out that they would have just enough time to take the long way home and still get there before his mother was expected. He could feel the eyes of parents here to pick up their own kids on him (and his colors) and he tried to ignore it. Since he’d turned seventeen, Jack had sponsored him for becoming a Prospect just before his senior year in high school had started and Steve was always hyper-aware of who was around him. Jack McGarrett had expectations of his son and one of them was to “not paint a target on your own ass” by drawing attention to yourself. He was well known enough as it was, both for good and for ill, that he didn’t need to exacerbate it. Instead, he reached into his saddlebag and drew out his AP Chemistry notes; his final was coming up next week and he wanted to do well.

He was going over the differences between exothermic and endothermic reactions when the final bell rang, indicating Mare would be out in a few minutes. He tucked his notebook back into the saddlebag and turned the ignition, letting the low purr of his bike act like a homing beacon for his sister (easier than trying to get her attention by hollering her name). When he heard the doors to the school open and the cacophony of hundreds of bodies all pouring out into the sidewalks, he started looking for the distinct red-gold of Mary’s hair. Three minutes passed and he caught sight of the top of her head and he reached for the throttle, revving the engine just enough to get Mary’s attention. Sure enough, no sooner was his hand on the throttle than Mary’s head jerked up and she was pushing her way through the crowd to look for the bike. Steve laughed when she cleared the crowd and jogged over to where Steve had parked.

“Steve! I knew it. I knew you’d bring the bike,” Mary gushed as she dropped her book bag to the ground and started rummaging through it’s contents. She grinned up at him as she stood, holding a pair of shorts in her hands. He automatically held out his arm for her to balance herself against while she pulled the shorts up her legs, buttoned them in place and adjusted her off-white babydoll dress so it didn’t get bunched up in her pants. It wasn’t uncommon for Steve to sneak a ride on the bike anymore than it was unusual for Mary to have a spare set of shorts to wear under her dress, just in case she got to take a ride.

“Mare, I figured we could maybe take a ride down Highway 83, run through Kawainui Marsh and, then we head home,” Steve offered as he swung his leg over the bike and straightened out for Mary to climb behind him.

“Fuck yea,” Mary replied and Steve chuckled. Mary’s enthusiasm was infectious and Steve found himself roaring down the highway, throttle wide open with Mary maniacally laughing behind him. The normally twenty-five minute ride took closer to ten minutes and they took a few loops through the marsh before Steve turned towards home. His watch was reading 3:03 PM and their mother was due home by 3:30 PM. He took a few shortcuts that he knew about and pulled his bike into the driveway at 3:27 PM. Mary was off the back of his bike and running into the house to be rid of the incriminating evidence by getting into the shower before Steve had even finished putting the kickstand down. He went into his bedroom, quickly digging his notebooks out so he could study until his mother got home.

At 5:00 PM, Steve had started to make dinner and he was starting to worry about his mother. For Doris McGarrett to be late was inconceivable; she’d once gotten into an accident, broken her leg and still made it home in time to cook dinner for Jack and the kids. Mary was (reluctantly) helping out by setting the table and he’d tried to call the clubhouse to see if his Mom had gone by there before coming home. Uncle Duke had told him she wasn’t there and assured Steve that he’d speak with Jack as soon as he finished his meeting.

At 6:00 PM, Jack McGarrett called the house and told Steve to keep Mary in the house.

“Dad, I can go out and help loo-” Steve started before Jack interrupted him.

“Son, you stay right where you are. You’re a Prospect for this club and that means you do as you’re told. Right now, I need you to keep Mary right there so I don’t have to worry about where you are on top of your mother,” Jack said, his tone leaving zero room for argument. Steve visibly deflated as his father essentially benched him. He forced himself to look at the situation as a club member instead of as a son; with Steve taking care of Mary, it freed someone else up to search for Doris. He sighed silently before responding.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll stay by the phone, in case she calls and I’ll leave a message at the club if she shows up at home.”

“Alright. I’ll see you in a bit,” Jack answered and, for the first time, Steve heard uncertainty in his Dad’s voice. It made Steve’s stomach turn to ice and he had to clench his hand into a fist to stop himself from puking. Something was so very wrong.

They hung up and Steve went to the safe in his parents’ room to get a gun before going to find Mary. She was sitting in her bedroom, having changed into a dark flannel shirt and a pair of jean shorts, and was listening to something on her Discman. He reached over and pulled the headphones off her ears, catching the last refrain from that weird band she’d been listening to out of Seattle. She huffed and reached for her earphones.

“Dude, stop! I was listening to that.”

“Mare, I just talked to Dad. Him and a couple guys are going out to look for Mom and he told me to hang out here with you,” Steve explained as he sat down on the mattress next to her. He felt her body freeze up when he’d mentioned looking for their Mom and he reached over to wrap his arm around her shoulders. Almost automatically, she pushed her head into his shoulder.

“She’s probably still up at Halawa. Maybe her n’ Aunt Ally stopped to get something to eat,” Mary half whispered. Both Steve and Mary knew the possibility of something like that happening without the club knowing where they were was non-existent but Steve didn’t want to burst that fragile bubble they were both holding on to.

“Probably right. She said she wanted to try the coco puffs from that new place on the H1 and that goes right near the prison.”

Neither of them acknowledged the bakery would be long since closed by now. Steve stayed with Mary, the gun on her bedside table, until they both drifted off.

#

The sound of engines caused Steve to jerk awake. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch, realizing he’d drifted off a few hours ago and it was now close to midnight. Mary was curled up against his side, her face stained red with tears. He slithered out from under her and made his way over to the window overlooking the front of the house. From this vantage point, he could see three motorcycles parked in the driveway and a car parked on the street in front of the house. That icy feeling was back in his gut and he turned away from the window, using his long stride to his advantage as he all but ran down the stairs. He vaulted himself over the last three steps and was in the hallway when he heard the HPD officer explaining to Jack that they would do a full investigation.

Steve felt the world tilt sideways and he was definitely going to be sick. There were two officers standing in his front hallway, both of them addressing his father while Uncle Duke and one of the other Prospects made their way into the house. Duke had his hand on Steve’s shoulder and was gently pushing him back up the stairs, trying to prevent him from seeing or hearing what the cops were saying. The Prospect had gone upstairs already and was probably with Mary; which alleviated Steve’s responsibility. He brushed Duke’s hand off his shoulder and stood his ground.

“We received a report of a large fire near the tanks at Red Hills and, when we arrived on scene …,” the officer’s voice trailed off in Steve’s brain. His attention was caught by the look on his father’s face. There was nothing there. No sadness, no grief, no anger. His father may as well have been made of wax for all that he was showing his reaction.

It was the club life; Jack was the President and it was his responsibility to be strong for anything that happened. They all lived with the knowledge that, at any point, something could happen to them but none believed it could actually happen. Steve felt his body going numb as he stood there, the words going around and around in his head.

“… wasn’t intantaneous …” “We are doing a full investigation …” “… so sorry for your loss”

“NO!”

Mary’s panicked screaming rattled him free of his own dread and he turned, taking the steps three at a time to get to her. She was already in the hallway, the Prospect wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her from running downstairs. Her face held all the emotion that neither Steve nor his father seemed capable of expressing; she was screaming, crying, and flailing her arms. Steve winced as Mary’s anger directed outward and the shrill voice started spewing accusations towards their father. Before he could react, the Prospect slapped his hand over Mary’s mouth but not before she could drop a few nuggets.

“YOU FUCKING FUCKER. YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE FUCKER! YOU KILLED MY MOTHER! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, JACK? YOUR FUCKIN LIF-”

Steve grabbed Mary into his arms and swiftly carried her back into her bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him. She was still screaming and he knew he had to get her to shut up. Blowing out his eardrums aside, this was club business and not something meant for outsider’s ears. Specifically the two HPD officers currently speaking with his father.

“Mare, shut up! Shut your mouth and remember who the fuck we are,” Steve admonished in his harshest whisper possible. “Those are cops down there. You want them to come up here and start asking questions?”

“He fucking killed her, Steve. He killed her just as much as if he’d put a fucking bullet in her brain. Dad’s honor code bullshit, talking about loyalty and protection but look at where Mom is. She’s dead Steve. She’s dead becau … becau …,” Mary’s voice broke down into wracking sobs and she fell onto her bed. Steve sat beside her, rubbing her back and letting her cry. His own grief would have to wait until Mary was asleep. His father had told him to take care of her and, even though he hadn’t thought a situation like this would ever come up, he was going to do as he was told. He stayed with her while she sobbed, getting up only to bring her a roll of toilet paper to wipe her eyes and blow her nose and to ask Ryan (the Prospect finally introduced himself) to bring up a glass of water for Mary. He let her cry until she fell asleep.

#

“I want to know who did this and I want their head, Duke,” Jack McGarrett’s voice came from the kitchen and Steve automatically turned in that direction. When he rounded the corner, he saw his father seated at the kitchen table while Duke was leaning against the counter. When he entered the room, Jack nodded in acknowledgment but made no move to get up.

“What happened?” Steve asked, still trying to work past the ball of ice that was numbing his entire body.

“Son, your mother’s Indian was found near the Red Hills tanks with her belongings scattered around. We have to wait for dental records to identify the remains but … we’re pretty sure it was your mother,” Jack replied, mechanically. Still, there was no emotion; his face was expressionless and his voice was flat. He’d sounded more impassioned when he’d been talking to Duke than he did with Steve.

“Do we have a likely suspect?”

It was Duke who answered when Jack fell silent. “We think this is retaliation.”

“The Yakuza?” Steve practically spit the word out.

“Steve, this is something for us to deal with. Go on upstairs. Keep an eye on your sister,” Jack said, his voice taking a hard edge. Steve turned, ready to open his mouth to argue, and Duke reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s been a long day, son. We’re all coping.”

Just like that, Steve realized that his father was grieving in the only way he knew how; he shut himself down from everything. Steve nodded, swallowing down his own grief and fear and hatred for another day. He had to step up and take care of his sister, make sure she was safe … make sure she didn’t start screaming at their Dad every time she saw him.

He made his way to the doorframe and turned, looking at his father. Jack McGarrett’s stone face was firmly in place and his eyes were like chips of granite.

#

“SHE WAS MY MOTHER!”

Mary’s voice reverberated through the house and Steve was up and running down the stairs to find her before the last syllable rocketed around inside his skull. Mary’s voice was shrill, accusatory, and going at full pitch. Steve took the corner into the office hard and shouldered the door open by accident. He saw Mary standing in front of their Dad, her arms pinned at her sides by Jack himself. She was squirming and kicking, trying to free herself but it was to no avail. A fifteen year old girl against a grown man’s strength and she had absolutely no chance.

“Mare. Mare, relax. Relax okay? This isn’t gonna solve anything,” Steve said, stretching his arms out in front of him to show he wasn’t a threat. Mary wasn’t paying attention. She was continuing to scream and swear, kicking her legs backward to try and catch her father’s frame.

“Mary, calm down. You aren’t helping,” Jack said, grunting as she worked an arm free and elbowed him in the ribs. He held on but Mary was already busy trying to work her other arm free.

“FUCK YOU I’M NOT HELPING. FUCK YOU AND YOUR DIRTY FUCKING BIKES AND YOUR FUCKING JAIL HOUSE TATTOOS. FUCK YOU .. just … just fuc … fuh … fuck you. I HATE YOU!” Mary screamed again and this time, Steve was so exasperated, he didn’t know what the hell to do. He was close enough that he was able to reach out and grab at her arms but she swung wild and her fist connected with his nose. A searing pain followed and Steve barely managed to grab her arm before she swung again.

“Mary Elizabeth McGarrett, you stop that right now!”

Steve froze in place, turning in surprise. Mary went deathly still in her father’s arms and stared at the doorway. Aunt Deb stood at the threshold wearing an unreadable expression.

“I can hear your ranting all the way down the street. I know you’re upset but there’s no reason for you to be screaming at the top of your lungs. Now come on, come with me and we’ll get you cleaned up,” Deb’s tone became softer as she extended her hand towards Mary. “Also, that’s one hell of a haymaker you’ve got on you. Hand your brother a tissue.”

Steve let go of Mary’s arms and reached up, touching his fingers to his nose. Sure enough, when he pulled his fingers back, there was blood smeared across his palm. Mary looked at him and all the fight went out of her; she crumpled in their father’s arms like a puppet that had it’s strings cut. Jack held her up, pulling her against his chest while she cried and Deb walked over to Steve, pressing a tissue into his hand.

“Go wash your face, kiddo,” she said kindly and Steve nodded before making his way to the bathroom upstairs.

By the time he was done with washing his face, Deb and Dad were outside on the lanai and Mary was in her room. Steve went for his sister first.

“Hey Mare,” he started and she looked up at him. Her eyes were rimmed red and held a sadness that he didn’t know what to do with. He reached out and she collapsed into his arms, clinging to him as though her life depended on it. He stayed with her, rubbing circles on her back and smoothing her hair down. They didn’t say anything; they just sat and hugged each other. Steve felt his leg fall asleep but he remained perfectly still for his sister.

Eventually she drifted off.

#

It took almost a week before the remains were identified. Mary withdrew into herself more and more as the week wore on and Steve didn’t know how to reach her. She didn’t want to ride, barely touched her food, and Steve was pretty sure at least once or twice, he’d smelled booze on her breath. He didn’t rat her out but he kept an eye on the liquor cabinet, just in case. Aunt Deb was a huge help in keeping things together while they arranged a funeral, as were all the women of ‘Auana. Doris had been a First Lady and her reputation was legendary on the islands. (If we’re being honest here, the only reason Steve didn’t currently have women hanging all over him was because no one wanted to be on the wrong side of Doris and he wasn’t “quite” eighteen yet)

The day after the funeral found Steve sitting in a tattoo parlor in Ewa Beach, having paid $50 for his mother’s name on his shoulder and $150 to not look too closely at his age.

Two weeks after the funeral found Steve beating the shit out of another Prospect who’d been caught with his hands up under Mary’s tank top.

A month after the funeral and Jack called both Mary and Steve into his office. Deb had gone home shortly after the funeral after Jack had assured her they were fine. She had her own club to get back to and her ol man. Duke was also in the office, seated off to the side.

“I need to talk to the both of you about something,” Jack started. Mary grunted from behind her hair; she’d taken to wearing it long and low on her face, along with heavy make-up and Steve had caught her, more than once, hanging around with guys that were in his class. He’d had to have more than a few conversations that ended with bloodshed.

“I want you to promise me that you will be extra careful when you’re out. I have a lead on someone involved in your mother’s murder and I’m going to follow it. You two are to be together whenever possible. Mary, if you aren’t with Steve, I want you with Iko Haupa.”

“Iko Haupa is a pervert,” Mary mumbled under her breath and Steve watched as Jack tensed up.

“Iko Haupa is one of the people I trust. I’ve known him for thirty years.”

“Doesn’t make him less of a pervert.”

“Doesn’t make you any less of a greedy little girl either,” Jack said, cutting to the quick. “You lost your mother and I’ve been understanding of that but this behavior is going to stop or I’ll have you under lock-down in this house. I know how many fights your brother’s been in because of your new friends and I know about your dates out at the Pali lookout. That stops now.”

Mary pushed her hair back from her eyes and Steve saw her challenging gaze meet their father’s eyes. He braced himself for the impending war.

“I’m not stopping shit, Dad. What do you care what happens to me anyway? You have your heir apparent, I’m just the daughter. Your precious club doesn’t care what happens to me so why should you start giving a shit now?”

“Your my daughter Mary.”

“No. I was my mother’s daughter. You’re just the lucky dick that knocked her up,” Mary replied, her voice pure venom.

“Mare, enough. Of course Dad’s worried about you, about us both,” Steve tried to explain but both his sister and father ignored him.

“You watch that mouth of yours, little girl.”

“Why should I? What are you gonna do, huh? Take me out of school? Assign Duke to come keep an eye on me, twenty-four hours a day?”

“Don’t push me, Mary,” Dad replied and Steve could hear the threat under that tone. He was planning something, Steve was almost sure. He was too calm.

“Don’t strain yourself trying to care, Dad,” Mary spit back, taunting him with the saccharine sweet way she said “Dad” before she stormed out of the office again.

Jack turned his attention over to Steve and took a deep breath. “Steve, I want to talk to you about the Navy.”

Steve’s heart stopped in his chest. He’d applied to the Naval Academy at the suggestion of his teachers; he’d never expected to actually be accepted. When the letter had arrived, he’d made sure to hide it deep in a drawer. He knew his future and it was with the club; Club first.

“What about the Navy?”

“Steve, you really think we don’t know you were accepted? I think you forget sometimes that I go shooting with our mailman once a week,” his father replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I …,” Steve was stunned silent.

“What your old man is trying to say here is it’ll be good for you. Accept the placement, Steve. Get off the island for a few years and then come home,” Duke said from the corner (Steve had honestly forgotten he was in the room).

“What about the club?”

“Your cut and your place will still be here when you come home, son.”

Steve looked from Duke to his father, trying to read the barometer of what was really going on.

“You’re trying to keep us out of harm’s way,” he said and both men nodded.

“I am,” his father confirmed.

“Okay, so the Navy is your answer for me. What about Mary?”

Both his father and Duke were silent and Steve felt that icy ball growing in his gut again.

He did not like where this was going.


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Vince Fryer had contacted Steve to invite him over for an informal meeting after Steve accepted the appointment to the Naval Academy. When the call had come through, six weeks after the funeral, Steve had assumed this was the Navy’s version of Prospecting; seeing if he was a good fit before they signed off on his placement. He’d dressed somewhat casually in cargo pants and a short sleeve shirt while leaving his cut at home; he didn’t know if this Captain Fryer knew who he was or who the ‘Auana were but Steve decided he’d be better off leaving it at home, just in case. He’d debated whether to ride his bike over or not but figured it was a safe enough concession and was pleasantly surprised when he pulled up to the address he’d been given and saw a 1990 Sportster 1200 in the carport. He pulled in beside the bike and swung his leg over, intent on approaching the front door.

He was raising his hand to knock when the door opened and a man was standing in front of him, wearing a smile that seemed a little too friendly. Steve could feel himself being measured and he didn’t miss the intensity of the gaze. Since the day his mother’s body had been discovered, Steve had been taking a page from his father’s book; he’d swallowed down all of his emotion so that he could just get through it. If he didn’t think about it, he could simply react and take care of those around him.  
“Captain Fryer?” he asked and the man extended his hand.

“Steven John McGarrett. C’mon in,” he replied, stepping to the side for Steve to walk through and then leading the way through the house to the kitchen, which led out to the lanai.

“You a coffee drinker?” he asked and Steve nodded. Fryer reached into the cabinet and pulled out two mugs, pouring coffee into each. When Steve saw the mugs, he choked on his own laughter. The mugs were white, with black lettering, and they read ‘SARCASM: Because beating the shit out of you is ill advised”. Fryer caught his laughter and grinned in response. He walked out to the lanai, Steve following behind and settled at a small wooden table.

“So, let’s start with the obvious. What’s the son of Jack McGarrett want with joining the Navy?” Fryer asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Steve was startled and his face must have shown it because Fryer laughed again. “When Annapolis told me about your application, I did some checking on you. Excellent student, clean record, no disciplinary issues, and all around well-liked. But you are also the son of a one-percenter and, even without your colors on, I know you’re already Prospecting. I also know, with my condolences, that you recently lost your mother and your sister is on a fast track to teenage pregnancy. So again, I ask what you are looking for in the Navy?”

“You don’t pull any punches, do you, Sir?” Steve asked and Fryer tipped his coffee mug in Steve’s direction as an acknowledgment. “My family has a long history of Naval service. My grandfather went down with the Arizona in ‘41 and my father served during Vietnam. I could tell you that I’m following in their footsteps but, the truth is, I’m not. I submitted my application because I’m my own man and I’d like to give something to my country. The recent murder of my mother doesn’t have anything to do with my application.”

Steve could feel that coldness in his gut again and he winced, swallowing it down. Now was not the time or the place to lose control of himself. His eyes held Fryer’s and was pleased to see understanding, but at least it wasn’t pity either. Fryer nodded once and put his mug down. “What about your club? Your father doesn’t have other sons and you’d be the heir apparent. Are you leaving the club? I’m asking because I know how clubs work; you don’t leave. So, if you go into the Navy, would you be bringing luggage and liability? Running from the club?”

“No Sir. My father knows about the application and supported my decision to accept. He understands my desire to serve and hasn’t held it against me. And if my father isn’t holding it against me, I doubt anyone else in the club is going to take offense on his behalf,” Steve answered promptly. Another nod and another glint of … Steve wasn’t sure what that was.

“Have you given any thought to what you might want to do while you’re in the Navy?”

Steve paused, giving the answer a chance to form. “I’m good with chemistry, math, and most of the sciences. I’d thought I might go into Surface Warfare.” He didn’t miss the gleam of interest Fryer had in his eye.

“How much experience do you have with guns?”

“If it has a firing pin, I can shoot it, Sir.”

Fryer laughed at that one. “Have you ever considered the Teams?”

Steve stopped short, mug halfway to his mouth. The Teams were another way of saying SEALs; the elite arm of the Navy and the most covert. Even his father hadn’t been able to even make it to the nomination. His heart started to race double-time in his chest as he brought the mug the rest of the way and took a sip to cover his excitement.  
“I hadn’t considered it as a realistic option to start my career, Sir.”

“Just call me Fryer. You aren’t in the service yet and I get enough of that Sir shit when I’m at Pearl.”

Steve nodded, relaxing slightly. Fryer was gruff, acerbic, and hard to judge but he was also realistic and blunt. Steve could appreciate that and responded to it. “Going into the Teams would be an honor. There’s a tradition there that I’d be proud to uphold.”

Fryer nodded and extended his hand towards Steve, who accepted it and they shook. “I’m going to sign off on your placement. Annapolis will tell you that you’re going to meet with me every few days while we get you into fighting shape. I’m going to tell you that I expect you here every day, no later than oh six hundred. You’ll be here a few hours every day until you leave for Annapolis. I don’t care if it’s raining, you’re bleeding or your sister gets knocked up and gives birth to a four headed Martian. Unless you are dead, you are here. We clear?”

Steve was processing everything the man said and nodding. He couldn’t believe it was going to be that simple. In a matter of ten minutes, he’d gone from being a Prospect to being a Naval Officer Candidate. He looked at Captain Fryer, swallowing his coffee before asking, “Not that I’m not grateful, but I’ve been here less than ten minutes. How do you know I’m qualified for the Navy, let alone the SEALs?”

Fryer threw his head back and laughed, shaking the wooden table with the force of it. Steve didn’t know what he’d said that was so funny and he waited out the fit of laughter. He was excited but there was no way this was that simple. “Kid, I been checking up on you since your application arrived at Annapolis. You’ve known me ten minutes; I’ve known you for close to a year. Annapolis doesn’t question my recommendation. I can smell a SEAL on you, McGarrett. You’ll do fine.”

#

Steven had never known this level of exhaustion. Every single muscle in his body was screaming and his brain was sluggish as he worked to complete the task in front of him. Fryer had him wearing a full set of BDUs, standing up to his chest in the cold water while he worked a Rubik’s Cube; after he’d just finished running two miles in the sand. This was the sixth day in a row that Fryer had made him do this, telling him he would do it every day until he could solve one side of the Rubik cube in under twenty-five moves. And this was after a month of his having started at one mile and fifty moves on the cube. His arms felt like lead and his legs cramped but he pushed himself; he pushed all of his emotion about his mother’s passing into making sure he was better and faster every day. He’d been working out with Fryer as well as with a few other Prospects and he could see the results. His body was taking on more definition than before and muscles were more apparent along his frame. He’d dropped some of the baby fat that had still clung to his face and his abs were rock solid. He knew this not only from his own inspection but also because almost every woman hanging around the club had suddenly started paying attention to him.

The problem was, he wasn’t looking at them. Well, it wasn’t necessarily a problem for him; his focus was on succeeding and making his father proud of him. Certainly he’d been with his share of girls, most of them people he went to school with, but he’d never felt the rush that some of the other guys seemed to talk about. He didn’t need an ol lady or a bed-warmer. But he also didn’t want to stick out; didn’t want people wondering why he wasn’t taking advantage of all the women seeming to throw themselves at him the closer he got to his birthday. So he’d gone on a few dates with a handful of women and had even taken one of them to bed (a wholly unremarkable experience). He was careful to avoid the women that he knew, from club talk, were just patch hunting. He was always careful to wear protection, even when she swore she was “all set”. He was leaving the island and he didn’t want to leave anything behind that might cause trouble later down the road.

He raised his arms up over his head, holding the solved cube out for Fryer to inspect.

“How many moves did it take, McGarrett?” Fryer’s voice was comfortably caustic.

“Twelve, Sir,” Steve replied, through chattering teeth.

“Great. That leaves you thirteen more moves to solve another side,” Fryer answered him.

Steve dropped his arms back under the water and got to work. He’d learned early on that Fryer wouldn’t tolerate bullshit excuses or reactions. SEALs do as they are told without question or hesitation; they follow orders to the letter and Steve wanted desperately to get there. Not only for his father or for himself but because after spending all this time with Fryer, he wanted the Captain to be proud of him as well.

#

Steve was leaving in less than three weeks. He’d worked hard and had exceeded even Fryer’s expectation of him; managing to swim five hundred yards in under six minutes and one hundred and twelve push-ups in two minutes. He knew he was physically ready but there was something else that he needed to do, something that was important. He’d spoken to Fryer and he’d given his blessing and then he’d spoken with Mamo, who’d given him a name.

Now, here he was standing twenty-four hours shy of his birthday and he was laying on his side on the floor of a very neat apartment in Pupukea, trying not to wince as the tortoise shell bit into his skin with every strike of the bamboo hammer. When he’d explained, using the assistance of Mamo because the man didn’t speak English, the light in the elderly man’s eyes had glowed like the sun.

“Se tamaitiiti o le atua,” the man had exclaimed and Steve knew he’d made the right choice.

#

“Steven, we need to talk,” his father said, sitting across from Steve in the office at the clubhouse. He’d told Steve that morning he wanted him to drop by and, when Steve had arrived, Uncle Duke and Chin Ho Kelly were already present. Steve knew Chin Ho from around the club and had always liked the slender man. He was quiet but Steve could sense the depth of his emotions.

“What do you need, Sir?” Steve asked, watching his father carefully. Jack McGarrett had never looked so sick in all the time Steve could remember and it wasn’t sitting well with him.

“Steve, you’re leaving soon and I’m proud of you, son,” Jack began, after a deep breath. “Mary … Mary hasn’t been so easy. And with you leaving, I’m … shit, I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this.”

Steve went still and his eyes read his father’s expression carefully. He’d known for a while that his father had plans but hadn’t been able to figure them out. Now, he was almost afraid to hear what Jack was going to say. He tried to keep his face from giving away his turmoil.

“Just tell me, Dad.”

Steve watched his father’s face turn to stone, once again. No emotion, no feeling. He braced himself for what his father would tell him but there was no way he was ready.

“I contacted an old friend of mine, Greg Hunschtel, out in Missouri and I’m sending Mary out there to stay with him and his ol lady,” Jack finally managed.

It took a minute for Steve to process what his father was telling him; it took another minute more before he realized the implication of what he wasn’t telling him.

“Mary doesn’t know yet, does she?”

“No. I’m not going to tell her until it’s too late. This is for the best, son,” his father replied. Steve knew his father could be cold but hadn’t imagined he could be like this.

“How are you going to get her on a plane?”

“Tonight, at dinner, don’t drink the Pepsi on the top shelf,” Jack replied, looking Steve in the eye. Steve’s mouth went dry and his heart thudded in his chest. He didn’t dare say anything because it wasn’t his place but he was shocked at how easily his father talked about drugging his sister.

“Is someone going with her?” he inquired. He wasn’t volunteering but he’d go if that was what his father instructed. In the moment, Steve understood why this was being done but he was increasingly disappointed in his father for doing it.

“I’m going to fly there and back, brah,” Chin Ho said from the opposite side of the room. Steve turned his attention to the other man and saw a surprising kindness in those black eyes.

“You’ll be careful with her, ya?” Steve asked and was glad to see Chin Ho nod, reassuringly.

His gut clenched and he wanted to go home and hide Mary away but, at the same time, he knew. Club first. Jack was his President first and his father second.

He dreaded going home that night; dreaded watching Mary drink Pepsi that he knew would be laced with something. He had to practically give himself a charley horse in his thigh from pinching the muscle to keep from saying anything as she sat across from him. When she collapsed, he was up in a flash and caught her before her head could hit the floor.

“I’m so sorry, Mare,” he whispered as her eyes fluttered closed.

#

“Where is he, Steven?” Mary’s voice was full of rage as he answered the telephone. He cringed when he heard it.

“He’s not here, Mare.”

“Fuck you, Steven.” She slammed the phone down in his ear.

#

His eyes opened and he looked out the window. It would be his last morning in Hawaii and he wanted to soak up as much warmth as he could. The reassuring aroma of pineapple filled his head and the sunlight was a beautiful pink and gold as it rose above the horizon. He couldn’t believe he was really leaving but, at the same time, he was looking forward to it.

Since Mary’s drugging, the house had felt strange. It wasn’t really home anymore. He’d walk down the hall and he’d pass by Mary’s room, seeing all of her belongings still where they’d been the day she’d been taken. Her homework was still on the fucking desk for Christ’s sake. Jack was rarely home and the house had become a mausoleum; reminding Steve of everything he’d lost in the last three months. Doris was gone, Mary was gone, and Jack was never there. It was Steve, alone in the house, and he was anxious to be gone.

He threw the covers back and padded over to the window, looking out over the beach at his backyard and trying to memorize every detail. He was trying to hold this moment so it would get him through the coming years. He had no idea when he’d ever come back; only that someday he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Se tamaitiiti o le atua." = "A child of the Gods."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut Ahoy!  
> I didn't plan this ... it just happened ... blame Albert.

“Remind me again why we thought this was a good idea, McGarrett?” Freddie’s voice drifted across the room from where he was sprawled out on his rack.

“I never said it was a good idea, Hart. You said we should do it because, and I quote, it’ll be good endurance training, end quote,” Steve replied without moving any part of his body.

Freddie Hart had been Steve’s bunkmate since their first day at Annapolis, two years ago. They’d become friends quickly and pushed each other to improve themselves; constantly egging the other on to do more. Today had been no exception. Freddie had convinced him last night that going for a run in the morning would be a great idea so they’d both set their alarms and had gotten up at four in the morning. To go running. In twelve degree weather. Steve was convinced he was never going to be warm ever again as long as he lived and he didn’t think he’d ever forgive Freddie for this one.

“I think my dick has frostbite,” Freddie complained and Steve snorted, managing to turn his head to look at his friend.

“How the fuck did your dick get frostbite? Did you whip it out and start playing with it while I was beating your ass?”

“Oh yeah, McGarrett. That pasty white ass of yours is the stuff my fantasies are made of,” Freddie deadpanned, throwing his pillow across the room and hitting Steve in the chest.

“Try to control yourself, Freddie. I’m not sure you could handle my aloha,” Steve laughed as he responded.

“I’ll do my best but you just don’t know what a flat, white ass does to me.”

Steve grabbed the pillow Freddie had thrown at him and rubbed it on his cock before throwing it back at Freddie. “Don’t say I never gave you anything, Hart.”

They both started laughing until someone knocked on their door and told them to shut the fuck up. After that, they laughed even harder.

#

“Brah …,” Steve managed to croak out as he and Freddie were helping each other into their apartment. To celebrate their graduation from the Academy and successful posting to Coronado, he and Freddie had gone out with the rest of their class and Steve didn’t think he’d ever been that drunk in his life. Currently, he was holding onto the key to their apartment but there were six locks in front of his eyes and he wasn’t sure which was the right one.

Freddie reached out with the hand not supporting Steve’s back and ran it down the door. A second later and he stopped, the tip of his finger on one of the locks. “There. Stick it in there and we should be okay.”

Both he and Freddie started laughing and Steve managed to get the door unlocked before any of their neighbors heard them. He and Freddie had moved off campus last year, in favor of an apartment they could split the cost on. They each had their own space and took advantage of not having the constant eyes of the Navy on their every move. It wasn’t uncommon for one or the other of them to bring home a six pack and a movie, or wake the other up in the middle of the night with a prank. Steve enjoyed having Freddie around because he reminded him of having a brother, or of being in the club. Freddie was there to wake him up from a nightmare, to make coffee at two in the morning when they were studying, and to challenge Steve to run faster or longer.

The door to the apartment closed and both of them fell onto the couch, trying to put their hands over the other’s mouth to quiet down. No sooner had they landed on the couch than their combined weight caused it to creak and collapse, which led to even more laughter. Freddie had somehow landed on top of Steve when the couch gave way and his elbow was digging into Steve’s side; his very sharp, pointed elbow. Steve retaliated by licking the side of Freddie’s face to get him to move and … this proved a bad idea.

His tongue had no sooner touched the side of Freddie’s face than he found himself being thoroughly kissed … by Freddie. His gut clenched and he didn’t know where the urge came from but, instead of pulling away, he leaned up into it and moved his hands so they were on Freddie’s hips and held him tight against Steve’s body. His cock, hard already, pressed against Steve’s quickly inflating cock and when he felt Steve’s hands on him, he ground his hips down. Steve moved by instinct, his hands roaming from Freddie’s hips up to his shoulders. The feeling of his stubble against Steve’s face felt … right. Steve was lost.

The truth of the matter was, Steve had certainly been with a few women but the experiences were never memorable. He’d fucked but it was mechanical at best and his heart had never really gotten into the game. It wasn’t that Steve didn’t like women; just that he’d never found one he wanted to fuck more than once. It didn’t cross his mind that he might be attracted to men because that wasn’t something that was even whispered about in the club. But here he was, three years out from the club and his cock had never been harder than it was right now as his tongue explored Freddie’s mouth and he could taste the whiskey he’d been drinking all night. He could also feel Freddie’s hands sliding down his shoulders and reaching between their bodies, yanking at Steve’s t-shirt to get it up over his head.

When he’d managed to get it up to his shoulders, they had to break their kiss in order to get their shirts off and, once they did, Steve got his first look at Freddie. His lips were swollen, his eyes were smoky and dark, and his breath was coming in gasps that had nothing to do with exercise. They stared at each other for a moment; each waiting for the other to say something.

“Steve …,” Freddie managed to whisper and that was all it took. Steve put his hands on Fred’s chest and pushed him up into a sitting position, following him up so their lips never broke apart. He felt Freddie spreading his legs as they sat up and he pulled him into his lap; Freddie’s ass sitting right on Steve’s now aching cock. Their tongues twined around one another and Steve grabbed hold of the scruff of Freddie’s hair to yank his head back, licking and biting his way down the length of his neck. Steve felt Freddie growling as his hands clawed at Steve’s shoulders and he moved his hands down to Freddie’s ass, slipping his hand inside the back of his cargos.

“Fuck you don’t know …,” Freddie started as he captured Steve’s mouth again and pushed his tongue in. The kiss itself was more teeth than lip and it was everything they’d come to expect from one another. Brutal, selfish, overpowering, and one-upping each other. Steve’s cock had never been so hard as he reached down and pulled Freddie up hard, his hands cupping both globes of his ass and spreading them open.

“The fuck I don’t,” he managed to grumble as he found his feet and pushed up off the destroyed couch, Freddie still clinging to his shoulders. Because they were matched, height for height, their lips never came apart as Steve pushed Freddie towards the bedroom. He wasn’t thinking beyond the next second, wasn’t thinking beyond the next heartbeat. He’d never looked at Freddie like this but now that he was here, he couldn’t see anything else.

By the time they made it to the bed, both of them were clawing at each other. Steve had managed to push Freddie’s cargos down under his ass and Freddie had his hand inside Steve’s pants, stroking his cock. He couldn’t believe how fucking good it felt and he wanted more; wanted to wrap his hand around Freddie’s cock and feel him pulse in his hand. He brought his hands around, yanked at the button of his pants and they both burst into laughter when the button pinged somewhere across the room. His hands were pushing the cargo pants down before the button hit the floor and his hand covered Freddie’s cock, stroking up to the head. He’d seen Freddie’s cock a million times while they were living together; modesty wasn’t something either of them suffered from. But now he was holding it and he almost came just from feeling it. He shoved Freddie back onto the bed, watching him spread out as he kicked his boots off and peeled his own pants down.

Before he could climb onto the bed, Freddie was sitting up and OHMYJESUSFUCK … Freddie’s mouth was on his cock and his cock was down his throat and holy fuck that felt bett …

Before he could do anything, Steve was cumming in Freddie’s mouth and his hands were digging into his shoulders, grounding himself against the sensation threatening to make him pass out. It was the most powerful orgasm Steve had ever had and it lasted forever. He had his eyes closed, holding onto the sensation and, when he finished and he felt Freddie pulling back, he dared open them to look down.

Freddie’s eyes were glassy and there was a tiny drop of Steve’s cum on his bottom lip. Before he knew what he was doing, Steve leaned forward and kissed him again, getting the taste into his mouth. It wasn’t much at first but when his tongue slid into Freddie’s wanting mouth, the taste exploded and he found he wanted more. His heart was slamming in his chest and he didn’t know what to do … he’d never been with a guy … had never really done any of this … but his brain was screaming for more so he pushed Freddie back onto the bed and climbed over him, throwing his leg on either side of Freddie’s thigh and putting his hands on his friend’s shoulders. He felt as sober as he’d ever been and a look at Freddie’s face showed he was the same.

“I’ve never …,” he started.

“Do what feels good. You’ve had your dick sucked before, just do the same thing to me. If you want. You don’t have to, Steve,” Freddie whispered in response, his voice thick with want.

“I want … fuck do I want,” Steve couldn’t believe how turned on he was. It didn’t matter that it was for a guy, for his best friend … it didn’t matter they were in the Navy and holy shit this was so dangerous … Steve wanted.

He crawled down the length of Freddie’s body and stopped when his hard cock was in front of his face. Smaller than Steve’s own, his cock was uncut and the tip was a deep, angry red. Before he could even attempt to touch it, Freddie’s hand reached down and he rolled his foreskin back, exposing the glistening tip in invitation.

“Use your tongue. Lick and get used to the taste. If you don’t like it, we can try somethi-FUCK!” Freddie’s voice cut off abruptly when Steve curled his tongue around the head and sank down to the root in one swallow. Steve wanted all of him and he wasn’t going to be satisfied with anything less than it all. When the head of Freddie’s cock hit the back of his throat, he opened his mouth wider and swallowed; he didn’t know where the instinct came from but he was glad for it when he heard Freddie cursing loudly and digging his fingers into Steve’s scalp.

He worked his mouth back and forth … eventually using his tongue to roll the foreskin back and forth while his fingers danced under Freddie’s balls, making his hips jerk up and burying his cock deeper into Steve’s mouth. Steve sucked and licked, moving his head down and tasting his balls before coming back up to the tip. His head was spinning and he was lost to the sensation.

Freddie put his hand on Steve’s head and was pulling him back, trying to yank his hips back but Steve grabbed the hand trying to pull him away and pushed it down to the mattress. He could feel the cock in his mouth twitching, thickening … he knew what was happening … he wanted it. He pinned Freddie’s hips to the mattress using his own body weight and curled his tongue under the tip. He was rewarded with the salty, creamy taste of Freddie’s cum shooting into his mouth. He moaned as his own body had a pleasurable spasm … not quite another orgasm but something that made all the nerve endings in his body twitch pleasurably. He milked Freddie’s cock for everything he could before releasing his cock and climbing back up the mattress.

Freddie pulled his face close and kissed him again; this time with less urgency and more caring. Their hands came together and he felt Freddie lacing his fingers between Steve’s own as he shifted and rolled onto his side for Steve to lay beside him.

Steve didn’t know why … he didn’t know what was happening … didn’t care … this was Freddie. Freddie always had his back.

They drifted to sleep in Steve’s bed, tangled together.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve felt something move beside him and he was instantly awake and aware of several things at once. First, his head was exploding in slow motion; he could literally feel every blood vessel in his brain shrinking and expanding every fifteen seconds. Secondly, his mouth felt like a rhesus monkey crawled into his mouth and died. Thirdly, and the one that was the most concerning, Freddie was curled up against Steve’s side with his head on his shoulder and a terrifyingly significant amount of drool was pooling in the hollow of his clavicle. 

Steve remembered everything from last night and he didn’t know how to react. He remembered the hot kisses they shared, the feeling of Freddie’s hands on his skin, and the taste of his cock. He remembered the look on Freddie’s face just before they’d kissed again, the taste of both of their orgasms mingling together. And of falling asleep together. It had been the best night’s sleep he’d had since his mother had died and the first time he hadn’t had a nightmare. But now his heart was starting to slam faster in his chest as he tried to process the implications of what they’d done. He’d never been with a man before in his life; had never even thought about it. But last night he’d cum so hard he could still feel the ghost of his orgasm six hours later. He cracked an eye open, intending to look at Freddie and gauge how he was going to extricate himself, only to find Freddie already looking at him. And smiling.

“If you’re going to punch me, could you at least wait until after my hangover’s gone?” Freddie’s voice was thick with sleep but there was an affection there that Steve recognized.

“How about we skip the punching and go straight to the coffee drinking?” Steve replied, wincing against the booming sound of his own voice in his head.

“No big gay freakout?” Freddie sounded nervous and Steve wanted to reassure him. 

Steve looked over at Freddie, the worry in his eyes and the wariness in his body language, and leaned down, hesitantly brushing his lips over his friend’s forehead. He surprised himself with the move but realized it felt completely natural. This was Freddie and there was nothing either of them could ever do that would hurt the other.

“The only thing I’m going to freak out over is if you forgot to buy coffee yesterday and we have to put clothes on and go out,” he replied, his lips spreading into a goofy grin.

“How much of a freakout are we talking here?”

Steve looked at Freddie and rolled his eyes. “I told you three times we were running out of coffee, brah.”

“Then you should have gotten some, brah,” Freddie replied, sarcastically over-enunciating the Hawaiian term and chuckling.

Steve rolled his shoulders and flipped Freddie onto his back, covering his body with his own. He grinned down at his friend (lover?) as his arms came up around Steve’s waist. Steve braced himself for Freddie trying to flip him back over but, instead, found his lips being gently kissed as Freddie leaned up closer to him. A moment and he leaned closer, which is when Freddie flipped them over and broke the kiss, laughing.

“Listerine, then coffee, then kissing. Your breath could kill a dead dog,” he said as he stood up from the bed and held a hand out to Steve. 

“Says the man whose breath could be weaponized.”

They went about their morning ritual and routines, each going to their separate baths and cleaning a night of sweat and booze off their skin. While Steve was in the shower, his mind painted him a picture of last night; a picture of Freddie grinding in his lap just as he had last night except this time, they were both naked. Instantly his cock was hard and he could feel the warm excitement rolling through his stomach. The idea of having Freddie riding his cock, just like he’d had women ride him in the past, was a better visual than anything he’d ever seen. He wanted to be buried inside Freddie, feeling him squeeze tight around his cock and milk all of his cum out of his balls. He wanted to watch Freddie trying to sit through OpSec meetings, knowing his cum was dribbling out of his ass. 

A warm hand on his cock startled him out of his reverie and he found Freddie standing in the shower with him, fingers teasing down the length of his cock. When he looked Freddie in the eye, he saw desire so raw and primal it was a little scary. He leaned forward, pinning Freddie against the shower wall as his mouth found Freddie’s and his tongue slipped into his mouth. He could taste the Listerine, mingling with the taste of his own toothpaste, behind the warm taste of Freddie. He could feel their bodies pressed together and when their cocks brushed up against one another, they both moaned into the other’s mouth.

Freddie’s hand was on his waist while the other was behind Steve’s head. He tilted his body, making himself pliant underneath Steve and silently inviting him to take more. The hand on Steve’s waist drifted down to his arm and he wrapped Steve’s hand around his cock, thrusting his hips in counterpoint. Between kisses, he whispered, “Stroke me, Steven. I want to show you all the things I’ve thought about doing with you for the last three fuckin years.”

Steve stopped, pulling his head back and breaking their kiss. Freddie’s hips stopped thrusting and the expression on his face was cautious terror.

“Three years?” Steve was dumbfounded. He tried to think of when Freddie may have said or done something that he’d missed but couldn’t think of anything. “You mean to tell me, we could have been fucking for the last three years?” In hindsight, the smirk he wore probably took something away from the threat. Freddie punched his shoulder, returning the sarcastic grin.

“Not my fault you’re oblivious,” Freddie retorted, going back to stroking his cock back and forth in Steve’s hand.

“Oblivious? Brah, we’re in the fucking NAVY. `I live in a constant state of hyper vigilance.”

“Not when it comes to your sex life, Smooth Dog.”

“I’ve never had a guy flirt with me. Gimme a break,” Steve responded, twisting his thumb over the head of Freddie’s cock and reveling in the groan it produced.

A moment later and Freddie was the one pulling back and looking at Steve, confused. “Wait. What do you mean you never had a guy flirt with you?”

“I’ve never, to my knowledge, had a guy flirt with me. What’s so weird about that?” Steve asked.

“Whoa, back up. You’re telling me you’ve never … with a guy?”

Steve could feel the blush going all the way up his face and over his scalp. He held Freddie’s eyes, even through the embarrassment. “Nope.”

Freddie looked like Steve had just told him he’d hit the lottery. “So … last night?”

“Was the first time I have ever touched a man that wasn’t a handshake or a haymaker.”

“Wow.”

“That’s what you’ve got? Wow? Here I just told you that you all but deflowered me and your response is wow? Geez, I didn’t think I did that bad a job at sucking your dick, Hart,” Steve replied, grinning widely.

Freddie punched him again.

#

“Hey Cath,” Steve called out to his friend as he saw her sitting at an outside cafe. He and Freddie were just back from deployment and they were out getting some food when he’d noticed her. Cath had been in his unit when he’d been temporarily assigned to Naval Intelligence and they’d remained friendly. 

“Hey Sailor. Good to see you,” Catherine replied, raising her eyes up and smiling warmly. Steve registered when she noticed Freddie because her eyes got wider and she chewed her bottom lip.

“Good to see you too, Cath. Catherine Rollins, this is my best buddy Freddie Hart. Freddie,” Steve spoke as he introduced them, “this is Catherine Rollins. We worked together in Intelligence.”

Steve noticed Freddie’s interest right away and he grinned to himself. He doubted either one of them heard him and he could probably walk away and they wouldn’t notice. 

#

“We’re goin to Vegas,” Freddie said from where he was stretched out on the California King sized mattress. Steve rolled his head to the right and propped himself up on his arm so he could see Freddie past the Catherine shaped lump in the bed. 

“Okay. Vegas is good,” Steve replied, a little confused.

“You’re coming too,” Freddie replied and, before Steve could ask why, the lump moved and a hand shot out from under the covers. There was a smooth band on her left ring finger that had a row of channel cut diamonds. Freddie was grinning like a loon and Steve followed suit.

“I know we’re a bit unconventional here but … I don’t think we can all three get married,” Steve quipped. The truth of it was, he’d known from the first day that Catherine and Freddie were headed in this direction and he was thrilled for them. The three of them were as close as could be, sharing everything from their bed to their bathrobes, but Steve always knew he was the third. And he was okay with that because seeing Freddie and Cath together made sense. He wasn’t the marrying type. When they’d first started dating, Freddie had talked with Steve and made sure it was copacetic and Steve had promised him that he was truly happy for them. Two months later, Steve had been invited to their bed and, while he enjoyed the hell out of it, he’d known in the back of his head that eventually their dynamic would change. 

“Think of it as a covert op. You’re there to make sure we both say the right words at the right time,” the lump said.

“What if I take the groom and abscond to the Hoover Dam?”

The covers flipped back and Catherine crawled up so she was straddling Steve’s waist. The silky feeling of her sleep pants teased against his thighs and he automatically reached out to wrap his hands around her waist. Freddie was there in an instant, pressed up against Steve’s side, mouthing at his neck.

“There will be no absconding, Sailors. Do you really want to know what people in the Intelligence community can do to hide a couple of bodies?” Catherine was grinning as she leaned forward and brushed her lips over Steve’s nipple. Her hair fell forward and created a curtain over his chest while Freddie turned his head and began kissing him. 

Steve’s brain shut off as everything else turned on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot harder to write than I thought it would be and I realize it's a bit shorter than other chapters but there's a reason. The next chapter deals with the first person to go on Steve's list and I wanted to devote my entire focus to the changes that Steve will experience, as well as the aftermath of the mission.
> 
> As always, Albert accepts kudos, coffee, bribes, and compliments.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one hurt. That's why it took so long to update. Albert caught a feelz.

“McGarrett,” Steve barked as he answered the incoming call. He still wasn’t used to having a phone that rang no matter where he was but he’d given the telephone number out to a few people that would need to reach him. When he heard the voice at the other end of the line, his world dropped out from under him and that numb feeling was right back in his stomach.

“Steve,” his father’s voice sounded like he was a million miles away but Steve could hear the devastation in just that one word. He clenched the phone tighter in his fist, turning away from where Freddie and Cath were making dinner.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Steven, are you stateside?” The lump in his stomach got larger and he felt his emotions draining away. Almost by instinct, he was reverting to what Cath called “SEAL mode”. She’d nicknamed it that way because he’d become almost robotic in order to get through some of the missions.

“What’s going on?” Steve couldn’t and wouldn’t confirm where he was on this phone. It wasn’t secure.

“Steve I need you to get to Kansas City, Missouri,” Jack’s voice was just as cold as Steve’s heart.

“Why?”

“Steve … it’s … I nee … fuck,” Jack McGarrett, for the first time in Steve’s life, broke down and cried. Steve didn’t know what to do, how to respond. He gripped the phone tighter and sat down in one of the chairs on Freddie’s deck. He jumped when he felt a soft hand on his neck and he looked up to see Cath and Freddie standing behind him, looking worried. He tried to shake his head, to brush off the concern. But as soon as the word Missouri came out of his father’s mouth, he knew. Whatever it was, it had to do with Mary.

Steve hadn’t heard from Mary in years. When she’d first been taken off the island, she’d called the house to scream at Jack but as soon as Steve told her he wasn’t home, she’d end the conversation the same way. “Fuck you, Steven.” He’d tried to call her a few times while he was at the Academy, had written her letters while he was in training but she never responded. Eventually he’d given up, hoping that someday they would be able to talk and he could tell her how sorry he was. She’d grown up in club life, the same as Steve, and eventually he hoped she’d reach out.

“Steve, it’s Mary,” his father managed to choke out between sobs and each syllable made Steve’s blood turn to ice. “I just got a call from a Max Winter, said he was Mary’s fiancee. He said Mary was involved in a police shootout and the medical examiner won’t release her. You have to go, Steve. You have to identify her.”

Steve’s hold on his emotions slammed down into place. The cold in his gut spread through the rest of his body; it was the only way he was going to get through this.

“Of course, Dad. I’ll get the leave and bring her home,” he replied and he felt Freddie rest a hand on his shoulder.

“No, Steven. Don’t bring her here. Get her body released and let her fiancee handle where she’s buried. Hawaii hasn’t been home for her in a long time and I doubt she’d want to be here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Steven, you under-,” his father began, but Steve interrupted him. He didn’t want to hear his father’s excuses for anything.

“I’ll take care of it, Sir. I’ll be in touch.” Steve looked at the phone, trying to remember how to shut it off when Cath took it from him and pressed one of the buttons.

“Where do we need to go, Steve?” Freddie asked, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“I have to go to Missouri. My sister died,” Steve answered, his voice as flat as his emotions.

Cath reached around and hugged him, pressing a kiss to his temple. She was warm and familiar and Steve was sure the hug was meant to be comforting.

“We’ll come with you. You shouldn’t do this alo-,” Cath began before Freddie interrupted her.

“Do you want us to come, Steve?”

Steve looked up at his two best friends … the two lovers whose bed he shared and lives he intertwined with. He tried to feel something but he couldn’t manage it; he needed to ride. He needed to get on his bike and ride and remember his sister the way she’d been when they were kids. Remember her on the back of his bike, laughing hysterically as they blew past cars and trucks on their way home, trying to beat their parents home because Mary wasn’t supposed to be on his bike.

“I’ll let you guys know when I’m back in town,” Steve finally answered, standing up and moving towards the door. He heard Cath move to come after him as well as Freddie gently stopping her. He whispered something in her ear, too low for Steve to hear.

“We love you, Steve. We’re here if you need anything,” Cath called after him. But in his heart, he knew he would never call. He knew he was walking away from their relationship so his bullshit didn’t catch on anyone else.

#

Steve opted to ride to Missouri instead of flying and he made it in nineteen hours. He pulled up to the hotel he was staying at and checked in to get a few hours sleep before he went to the medical examiner’s office. He also had to call Mary’s fiancee and ask about arrangements. He didn’t feel right in leaving Mary behind but orders were orders, no matter where they came from. He fell into a restless sleep in a bed he couldn’t feel.

The next day, he called the number his father had given him for Max Winter and arranged to meet at an address just outside the city. He pulled up to a small blue house that had a rainbow welcome mat at the door. He winced, thinking of Mary being so far away from Hawaii. As he knocked, he looked around the front of the house and he saw flower beds with half dead flowers and he chuckled. Mary never could grow anything. He cringed as his next thought came as Mary would never grow anything again.

A man with black hair and grey eyes answered the door. He had red rings around his eyes, whether from tears or lack of sleep, Steve couldn’t tell. His clothes were rumpled and he hadn’t shaved in a while. He looked at Steve for a moment before stepping back, allowing Steve over the threshold. “You’re her brother, Steve. She talked about you a lot,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Max, Mary’s fian-.” He stopped, choking on a sob.

Steve accepted the hand, shaking it firmly. In a glance around the house, he saw boxes that were half packed and pictures everywhere of Max and Mary. Mary was smiling but she didn’t look the same as she had when they’d been kids. There was a darkness in her eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on and, in a few pictures, she looked like she was sick.

“I’m sorry we’re meeting like this. Mary talked about sending you an invitation to the shower but didn’t have an address for you.”

“Yeah, Mare and I didn’t keep in touch too much. I don’t really have an address and the last few times we talked on the phone, she was pretty clear about how she felt.”

Max led Steve into the house and moved into the kitchen. There were boxes piled up in the corner of the room and Steve wondered if they were moving in or moving out. He accepted the coffee he was offered and took a seat at the small table.

“You should know she changed. The last couple of years, she’s been doing really well … she got clean an-” Max started.

“Clean?” Steve interrupted and Max looked at him with surprise.

“How long has it been since you spoke with Mary?”

Steve had to think, long and hard. He wasn’t honestly sure but he’d still been at the Academy so it would have been around ‘94. When he said as much, Max winced.

“This is gonna be a long story.”

Steve looked Max in the eyes and saw pain and anger and hurt and fear all rolled around into one wounded look. He slugged back his coffee and nodded, indicating Max should continue.

“I met Mary in ‘96. I was out with some friends, celebrating my birthday and we wound up at a bar down in The Bottoms. Mary was there with a few friends, partying pretty hard but there was something about her that I just couldn’t resist. We talked a bit and I gave her my phone number, hoping we could set up a date. We went out a few times and I really liked her, told her as much. She told me that she liked me too and that she was trying to get clean. She sat me down, I think we were six months into our relationship,” Max smiled fondly as he recalled the memories.

“She told me about Hawaii, about your father and what happened to your mother. When that asshole in Lawson kicked her out and she didn’t have anywhere else to go, she came to KCMO and started hanging around with a pretty rough crew out of The Bottoms. They partied pretty hard and she got hooked on heroin. She said it made her life livable because it allowed her to forget for a while. She could pretend she was someone else and she could live with that. Her habit got so bad she had to find a way to support it and she … uhh … fuck, you shouldn’t find out like this.”

Max broke and Steve watched the tears filling up the man’s eyes. He didn’t react; couldn’t react. His emotions were gone and all that remained was the SEAL, going in for an op to get the mission accomplished.

“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re sayin. I’ve seen the type before.”

“They used her. She was barely seventeen years old and she was turning tricks for $10 to get a fix. By the time I met her, she had started thinking about getting out and finding some help. I promised her that I’d help her. I found a program she could get into and when she got out, I moved her in here, with me. The first year was hard but we got through it. She started working as a home health care worker and then became a CNA. She was talking about going for her RN and she was specialized in children’s care. She loved the kids she worked with. Every day she’d come home and tell me all about one of her keiki and we talked about having a child of our own. It was one of those “someday” things that … well … you know.”

Steve nodded. He wore a mask of sympathy but that’s all it was … a mask. His gut was churning and he felt like he had just gone through BUD/s all over again. His skin felt hot and he could hear Max talking but the words weren’t making sense.

“Anyway, last year we got serious. I asked her to marry me and she said yes. We planned for a spring wedding in Hawaii, of all places. She wanted to go home and she wanted to see your father. To mend bridges, she said. And then, in April, we found out she was pregnant. We hadn’t really been trying but we weren’t being careful either. Right away, she started taking even better care of herself than she was before. She ate right, she even stopped drinking coffee. We were looking for a bigger house … found one, too. We’d just put the offer in when we lost the baby,” Max winced, stumbling over the words. Steve wished he could do something to comfort the man but his own emotions were being held down by a thread.

“The obstetrician had said Mary was at a high risk. She’d contracted chlamydia at some point and didn’t know until she got clean but it did some damage to her reproductive system. We were doing everything we could to keep her risks down but … there was just too much damage.” Max was openly crying as he went over the story and Steve could hear the pain in his voice. It was like Max was dying right in front of him.

“After … after the baby, Mary seemed okay. We were depressed and sad but Mary didn’t seem destroyed. I should have known … I should have seen something. But I was caught up in my own grief and I missed all the signs. She stopped working, claiming being around the kids was too much. She’d gone back to bartending down in The Bottoms. She started being secretive about her phone and where she was going and who she was with. By the time …,” Max stopped speaking, breaking down entirely. He physically wilted in front of Steve and couldn’t stop sobbing. Steve got up and poured another coffee, placing it in front of Max. He drank it down and wiped at his face, his breathing coming back under control. Steve’s heart was a block of ice and in his head, he kept thinking of the name of the man who’d done this to his sister. The man who had kicked her out when she needed to be protected.

“Last Tuesday, Mary didn’t come home. It was the first time she hadn’t come home and I knew something was wrong. Like a light switch in my head went off and I realized the people she was hanging around with. I realized she was probably using again. I tore through the house, looking for needles, looking for her stash. When I found it in the nursery … stuffed inside the mattress in the crib … Steve, I didn’t know what to do. I still can’t believe I found it … still can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“Mary was always good about hiding shit. If she didn’t want you to know somethin, you would never suspect. Probably no one would have suspected until she wanted them to,” Steve offered as consolation. He knew who to blame for his sister’s death and it wasn’t the kid in front of him.

“When I got to work, I heard about the car chase. I didn’t know who it was and to be honest, it never crossed my mind that it might be Mary. I figured she was sleeping it off somewhere, maybe with her friend Joanie. She sort of adopted Mary as a little sister but she was so fucked up all the time, she barely knew her own name. When the police came to my office …,” Max paused, taking another swallow of his coffee and looked Steve in the eye as he continued, “Steve, I don’t even remember what they said to me. I don’t remember them taking me home, or of going to the coronor’s office. I know I did but I don’t remember any of it. When they told me that a member of her family had to identify her, I searched like hell for either you or your father. When I found your father, I called and they told me he was in prison. I didn’t know what to do but they put me in touch with a Duke? Anyway, Duke said he’d get the message to Jack and then to you and I should just sit tight. And now, you’re here.”

Steve was surprised to hear that his father was in prison. He hadn’t said anything about that when he’d called. But it did explain why he couldn’t come himself.

“We’ll go down this afternoon and I’ll do whatever I have to do. You can make whatever arrangements you need to make and I’ll take care of the cost.”

Max looked at him with surprise, almost accusatory in nature.

“You aren’t taking her home?”

“Hawaii hasn’t been home for either of us for a long time. From what you tell me, she was happy here with you and I’d rather know she’s buried somewhere she was happy.”

“I thought she was happy. I thought we were going to be alright.”

“Let’s take care of this so she can be put to rest. I have my bike, I can follow you to the office.”

#

“Lieutenant McGarrett, I am so very sorry for your loss,” the medical examiner said as he brought Steve to where Mary’s body was being held. Steve nodded curtly, not daring to say anything or the rage boiling in his stomach was going to overflow. Max had led him to the office and said he would wait for Steve to come back from identifying Mary. He said he didn’t remember what she looked like the day he’d identified her so he didn’t want a reminder. He’d prefer to remember her the way she was.

When they were standing in the chilled exam room, he was led over to a wall that was evenly spaced with three rows of four swinging doors. The medical examiner reached for one at Steve’s hip and pulled out the gurney, draped with a sheet. Steve swallowed hard, trying not to react; trying to hold himself together. He was grateful for his SEAL training at this point because it was the only thing that kept him going.

The sheet was folded back and Steve saw his baby sister. Her vibrant red-gold hair was greasy and dull, her cheeks were sunken in from missing teeth and she had that junkie look he’d come to know from being overseas and seeing it firsthand in some Asian countries. He reached for the sheet and pulled it back before the medical examiner could stop him and he looked at his sister’s body. There were track marks up and down her thighs, her arms, and even between her toes. The open wounds from eighteen bullets riddled her pallid skin, like giant freckles and she looked like she barely weighed eighty pounds.

The medical examiner was quick to grasp the sheet and pull it back over Mary’s body but Steve had seen enough.

“That’s her. That’s Mary Elizabeth McGarrett. My sister. You can release her to Max, her fiancee. He’s making the arrangements on behalf of the family.”

Steve turned on his heel and walked out, every step boiling his rage that might faster. The edges of his vision were white and he was beating the name Greg Hunschtel into a mantra in his head. He’d been trusted to take care of Mary and, instead, had thrown her to the wolves. As far as Steve was concerned, Greg and Louis Hunschtel were responsible for killing his sister.

Greg Hunschtel was the first name on Steve’s list.


	6. Chapter 6

“You know, they say coffee can cure all your ails, Sailor,” Cath said as she put a large mug in front of Steve and took a seat opposite him. He’d been home for a few months, still dealing with the aftermath of Mary and finding out that his father had been in Halawa for the last six months. Duke had explained that Jack hadn’t wanted Steve to worry and it was an easy stretch. Steve had pulled back from his intimate relationship with Cath and Freddie and he could see the hurt in his best friend’s eyes but he couldn’t bring his bullshit to their happiness. He withdrew, spending a few nights every now and again but always managing an excuse for why he wasn’t in their bed. He missed them, if he were being honest with himself, but he wanted to protect them.

“Coffee only fixes what ails you when there’s no booze to be found,” Steve deadpanned in response, painting a smile on his lips.

Catherine chuckled a bit and pulled one leg up in the chair she was seated in on the lanai of the house she shared with Freddie (and, previously, Steve). “True. But I thought maybe starting drinking at 0700 is frowned upon.” Her laugh was light, as was her tone, but Steve could tell she wanted to talk to him about something; it was in her body posture and the way her eyes seemed to never leave his alone.

“Yeah, we’ll crack the whiskey at 7:15. Much more SEAL appropriate.” He laughed with her this time and part of the ice in his chest loosened.

“What’s going on, Sailor?” Cath never did pull punches and her question, generic as it was, left no room for misunderstanding. Steve knew she was asking about everything; his mental state, the state of their friendship, and the intimacy they’d once shared. He sighed heavily and took a generous swallow of his coffee.

“I can’t bring my bullshit to you and Freddie, Cath. I won’t do that to you guys. Seeing what happened to my sister? Seeing what she went through when we weren’t speaking? I should have tried harder and I didn’t because I was too caught up in being selfish. I was so busy pursuing the Teams and my own glory to really try reaching her.”

“You mean you should have tried harder than calling her every day, mailing fifty-seven letters, and calling to check in with your father once a week to see if she’d been in touch with him? Explain to me where you could have done something more. Do you think that if you had left the Navy and gone to Missouri, you would have saved her? Do you think she’d have been that easy to find? From what you’ve told me, your sister had a lot of pain inside of her and there was nothing anyone can do for that. We either survive or we drown, Steve. And there’s nothing anyone else can do about it,” Cath replied, her tongue just sharp enough to cut through the angry retort that rose to his lips. He put his head in his hand and scrubbed at the back of his neck with the other.

“I’m her big brother, Cath. I was supposed to watch out for her … protect her.”

Cath reached out with a soft hand and touched the back of his hand against his face. He jumped a little but the softness of her touch melted a little more of the ice in his heart.

“You did protect her, Steve. For as long as you were able, you protected her. You did everything you could but that pain eats you up. That kind of loss stays with you and …,” Cath’s voice trailed off and there was something in her tone that made Steve look up. Her eyes were glassy and her expression was far away, an echo of grief. “Did I ever tell you about Billy?”

Steve thinks for a moment and shakes his head. She smiles a little but it’s full of a sadness that he had never seen.

“Billy Harrington was the son of a subordinate who followed my father’s career. Wherever Dad was stationed, Erik Harrington wasn’t far behind and so, in a way, Billy and I grew up together. I can’t remember a time in my life that Billy wasn’t there, even going back as far as first grade. He was my first protector, my first punch, my first date. He and I were going to be friends for the rest of our lives and nothing was ever going to come between us. If his girlfriend didn’t like me, he’d break up with her and if my boyfriend didn’t like him, that was the last time I dated that person. That’s how close we were. We weren’t interested in each other sexually … would have been way too awkward … much to the consternation of our parents. I still think my mom and his mom planned our wedding for us, hoping to the end that we’d wind up together.”

Cath’s voice broke for a moment and there was a flash in her eyes of true grief. There was also a spark of anger. Steve reached for her hand and she took it, squeezing his reassuringly.

“Anyway, when Billy and I were seventeen, we were stationed at Little Creek in Virginia and there was a soldier from Fort Story not too far away that I had gone out with a few times. He was decent and nice, a true gentleman. Billy was dating a girl from Virginia Beach and we’d usually double on the weekends. I wasn’t crazy about the girl but Billy seemed to like her so I put up with her for his sake. Eventually, I started to notice that Billy wasn’t around as often and I’d call his house and his Mom would tell me he wasn’t home, or that he was out with Jenny. I’d try to catch him at school but he seemed determined to avoid me and, eventually, I stopped trying. Six months later, Billy’s Mom called my house and asked if I knew where he was. I told her that I hadn’t spoken with him in months and … Steve, I can still hear her voice … she told me that she was worried about him. Billy was hiding things and he seemed to be getting into more fights because he was coming home with bruises. I had no idea what could be going on but I remembered that we’d picked Jenny up from her house a few times and I knew where it was. I told her that I’d go over and see if he was with his girlfriend.”

Cath’s tone turned icy and she clenched her hand around Steve’s, her eyes holding his. “I got to Jenny’s house and turns out, she didn’t even live there. It was a phony address that she’d given us and since we’d always picked her up from the sidewalk, I never knew. We called the police, notified base security. My Dad had enough pull with the local LEOs that he got the disappearance treated as a high priority. We searched for Billy for three weeks. We searched for Jenny. We tried to find his car. After two years, Billy’s parents buried an empty casket. I put an empty casket into the ground for my best friend because I couldn’t see the signs.”

Steve took a deep breath and leaned across the table, taking both of her hands into his. “What happened?”

“That cunt was arrested five years later in Georgia after a traffic stop pulled the old BOLO for when Billy disappeared. When she was brought in, she confessed to killing Billy ‘by accident’. She’d been beating him since their third date and the violence had kept escalating until one night, the night he disappeared, she went too far and she’d beaten him with a fireplace poker. She used it on his kidneys and she ruptured his spleen. She hit him in the head and he passed out. She left him on the side of the road after pushing him out of the car. He died on the side of the road and his body was never identified because he didn’t have his wallet or anything on him. They were in Florida at the time, she’d convinced him to drive her there. My best friend died on the side of the road, alone and bleeding, because I couldn’t see the signs of his abuse. I buried an empty casket because I missed the signs. I won’t do that again, Steven. I won’t lose someone else because I wasn’t paying attention,” she looked at him and he felt the last bit of ice in his chest let go.

“I’m sorry Cath,” he said and stood up, coming around the table to embrace her and feel her arms go around his waist.

“It eats you alive when you think you haven’t done enough or when you have your world twisted upside down. Billy was on delayed enlistment for the Navy; he was going for the Teams as well. Jenny was five foot nothing and looked like a stiff breeze could blow her over. I’ve never understood how she manipulated him, how she could overpower him. I spent a solid year of my life after she was arrested down at the bottom of a bottle. If my father didn’t have the pull he had, I’m sure the Navy would have discharged me after all the fuck-ups I had but eventually, I realized that blowing my career wasn’t what Billy would have wanted me to do. So I spoke to my CO and I went into rehab. A thirty day program to get clean and, about a year later, I met you. And then you introduced me to Freddie. I have a reason to live again but if something were to happen to either of you, I can’t say that I wouldn’t crawl right back into that bottle. You’re so much more than just my friend or just my lover, Steve. You’re more than my best man or my husband’s best friend or whatever other label you want to put on it,” Cath leaned back so he could see her face and she put her hands on the sides of his face.

“You’re a part of me, a part of us. Freddie and I love you and our lives would be incomplete without you. You pulling away hurts and we wanted you to have space but I needed you to know that you don’t have to. Everyone has bullshit and baggage, Sailor. The thing is, your bullshit and baggage have a place with Freddie and I so all three of us can support each other. I don’t care if we ever fuck again, but you belong here, Steven.”

He pulled her close, wrapping himself around her and allowed himself to relax; allowed himself to let go of his guilt over Mary and his fury at her death. He’d found someone who could relate to what was going on in his life and he wondered how he could be lucky enough.

“For the record, I’m a selfish bastard and I most certainly care about whether or not I ever get to fuck you again, McGarrett,” Freddie’s voice sounded from behind him and he felt Cath stiffen with surprise.

“It’s not nice to spy on your wife, Hart,” he replied, loosening his arms from around Cath and turning around, still holding her against his chest. Freddie was standing in the doorway wearing a pair of BDU pants and nothing else. He had a heartbroken expression on his face and, no sooner had Steve turned than he was across the lanai, embracing both Cath and Steve.

“I got home a few minutes ago and saw your car was here. I was coming out to tell you I was home when I heard the last bit and I don’t know what you two are talking about but I don’t have to. Cath is right. You belong here, Steve, however you want to be,” Freddie whispered in his ear.

The three of them stood on the lanai for a few minutes longer before Cath started to gently nudge them towards the door leading into the kitchen. Steve allowed himself to be maneuvered through the house with soft touches and whispered comfort. He followed when Freddie opened the door to the bedroom and stripped him down to his boardies; when Cath laid down on the bed and scooted to the side so he was between them. He sighed when both Freddie and Cath snuggled up to either side of him and just held him. There was no urgency, no sex … this was just his family taking care of him. They caged him with their arms and held him when the tears started to fall. They hugged him when his body began to shake with the emotions he’d been holding onto since the day Jack McGarrett had told him not to drink the Pepsi. They were strong for him as, for the first time, he told them the truth of what had happened.

He expected to be rejected; to be kicked out of their home for being complicit in what amounted to his own sister’s kidnapping. Instead, he found himself being held even closer and whispered to that it was okay. That he wasn’t to blame. That he was still loved.

He cried until he drifted off to sleep, safe between them.


	7. Chapter 7

“Does this mean I have to salute you in bed, now?” Freddie’s voice teased and Steve laughed, running his hand down the front of Freddie’s dress whites and cupping his balls.

“You do enough saluting, Hart.”

Steve laughed as he looked at himself in the mirror. It had been months of struggle and determination but he was about to be promoted to Team Leader of his own SEAL unit as he accepted the commission of Lieutenant Commander. Catherine came up behind him and picked small bits of fluff and lint that dared to land on his uniform, dressed in her own uniform. She wouldn’t be at the ceremony as she was shipping out for parts unknown on the USS Carl Vinson and would be on maneuvers for the next six months.

“Alright Sailors, here’s the house rules. No parties, no getting pregnant, and if either of you put my panties on, take pictures for me to see when I get back,” Cath teased, both Freddie and Steve laughing uproariously.

“I promise, Cath, I’m on the pill so we’re good,” Steve deadpanned.

“What is it they tell you boys? Never trust when he says he’s on the pill?”

“I believe the saying goes ‘Use the buddy system when going in deep’,” Freddie responded and they all laughed again, doubling over with it.

“You look very handsome Commander,” Catherine said, once they’d gotten hold of themselves. She smiled up at him with a bright, toothy grin and he kissed her on the nose.

“Thank you Lieutenant. You are also looking quite … stealthy.”

“Well you know about those Naval Intelligence folk. You never know where they are, but you can assume they are always listening,” Freddie said as he bent his wife backwards and kissed her as she laughed.

“Don’t give her ideas, Hart. Next thing you know, she’s going to commandeer a satellite and use it to watch us in bed at night.”

“Oo, congressional porn. I’ll be sure to wear her panties every night then,” Freddie grinned as he put her upright.

“If either one of you stretch out my panties with those hips of yours, you’re replacing them. La Perla, boys.”

The three of them went downstairs to the kitchen and began their goodbyes. It was going to be a long six months.

#

“Hey Sailor,” Cath’s voice was barely audible over the static on the line but the sound alone made Steve’s heart flip. She’d been gone for almost two months of radio silence and this was the first time they’d had a chance to hear her voice. It was just before four in the morning and he was still in bed with Freddie, whom he proceeded to elbow in the ribs to wake him up.

“Well hey there yourself, Madame Intelligence. It’s good to hear your voice,” Steve was listening to Cath but also listening to the noise behind her. She didn’t sound like she was on a ship, there was a different tone when inside the hull, and it made his gut clench. She was on the ground somewhere but there was no way of knowing where and he knew better than to ask.

“Where’s Sleeping Beauty?” she asked, laughing when Freddie let out a surprised grunt.

“Woman, do you know what time it is?”

“Why yes, Sailor, I do. Which is why I called Steve instead of you. He’d be awake, you’d still be hoping for three more minutes of sleep,” she teased and Freddie grinned as he rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder so they could both hear her.

“So about that getting pregnant thing. I’ve noticed lately that Steve isn’t fitting his pants quite so well anymore. I think he may have gotten himself in trouble,” Freddie said and Steve chuckled.

“It’s a food baby. I’m thinking of naming it Thanksgiving,” he retorted.

“Just don’t let the damn thing get it’s stuffing all over the floor, boys.”

They spent another minute on the phone before Cath had to disconnect. Before they ended the call, Cath whispered just loud enough for them to hear without alerting anyone who may be around them, “I love you guys.” And then she was gone.

Steve put his phone down on the table and looked at Freddie. The same look shared between them.

“She’s on the ground somewhere,” Freddie said flatly and Steve nodded.

“Let’s just hope she comes home safe,” Steve said, pulling Freddie into a hug and staying that way for a few minutes.

#

“I gotta say, you look damn sexy all laid up like that,” Freddie grinned as he leaned over and kissed Cath’s forehead. Two months overdue, she’d finally managed to flag down a US transport vehicle to get her out of … wherever she’d been. She couldn’t talk about it. When the call had come in, Freddie had immediately called Steve to let him know she’d been found. It was a huge relief off their shoulders. Now that she was back in Coronado, after rehab and a de-briefing, they were finally allowed to see her.

She smirked as she leaned up into the kiss and smiled at Steve. He couldn’t kiss her; not in the med facility with more eyes than anywhere else on base. But he smiled for her and she (hopefully) knew.

“Yes, I got shot so I could be sexy for my husband. It’s part of my plan to enslave you with my wounds,” she rolled her eyes as she answered, smiling to soften the sarcasm.

“It’s alright Cath. You can divorce Freddie here and I’ll love you, bullet holes and all,” Steve replied, grinning like a goof. He was happier to see her home than not and he’d take it however he could get it. He’d spent the last two months comforting Freddie and assuring him that, somewhere out there, Cath was trying to get home. He was glad to have been proven correct.

“I’m sorry to have to break your heart, Steve, but I could never love you like that. You eat your steak raw,” Cath’s nose crunched in disgust as she giggled.

“It’s rare.”

“You barely walk your steak within one hundred feet of a heat source, Sailor. That thing is so raw, it’s probably still mooing,” Freddie replied, grinning.

“Neither of you have any appreciation for good food.”

Both Freddie and Cath laughed out loud and Steve grinned. They were all home. They were all safe.

#

Steve McGarrett had lived through tortures, great and small. He’d gotten through BUD/s at the top of his class and had made Lieutenant Commander faster than anyone in the last fifty years. He’d survived sleep deprivation, physical beatings, and psychological conditioning. He was a United States SEAL Team Leader. He was unflinching, non-responsive statue.

This is what kept going through his head as he sat in the chair of the bedroom he shared with Freddie and Cath; Cath on the bed, naked and slowly opening herself up with soft touches to her already soaked labia while Freddie was on his knees in front of Steve, rubbing his face against the silken torture of a pair of jockey shorts Cath had bought for him “somewhere”. When she’d first presented them to him (and a pair for Freddie as well), he’d looked at her questioningly. Lieutenant Catherine Rollins, one of the most level-headed and steadfast people in his life, blushed almost purple and held his eyes.

“I can’t imagine either of my men in panties but I’ve had a few fantasies about both of you in jockeys,” her voice was husky and there was a fire in her eyes that had both he and Freddie racing up the steps to get into their new underwear.

And now, Cath was laid out with her legs bowed at the knee, while her fingers danced on her labia and occasionally dipping a finger into the heat of her pussy. And Freddie was on his knees, using his tongue and hot mouth to dampen the silk currently caging Steve’s arousal. He had to admit, the tightness of the jockeys was something he could appreciate (McGarrett men wear boxers). Steve rested his hand on the top of Freddie’s head as he tilted his head back, admiring both of his lovers taking their pleasure and offering his. He watched Cath’s fingers, slippery with her own arousal, as they pinched her clit and made it protrude even more from between her lips. Steve could imagine running his tongue over that too-sensitive bundle of nerves and the way Cath’s legs would lock around his head and she’d start fucking herself against his chin and nose. But for now, his focus was on Freddie.

Freddie, who had soaked this jockeys with spit and precum, was stroking the head of his cock as it peeked out of the waistband, using the calloused pad of his thumbs. Freddie smirked up at him, winking, before trailing his finger along the edge of the jockey and folding the top down to expose more of Steve’s cock. Steve lifted his ass for Freddie to slip them off but a voice from the bed stopped them both.

“No. Leave them on. I want to see you fucking my husband while you’re both in your shorts,” Cath moaned out as her fingernail scraped across her nipple. Steve’s already hard cock stiffened even more and a drop of precum rolled out of the tip, caught by Freddie’s tongue.

“You know, Hart. She looks awful lonely over there. I mean, what kind of men are we that we’d leave a beautiful woman by herself?”

“The selfish kind, McGarrett,” Freddie replied playfully, still mouthing at Steve’s balls through the shorts.

“We shouldn’t be selfish. We’re SEALs. We’re trained to … fuck, that feels good,” Steve’s trail of thought slipped away as Freddie’s tongue dipped lower and licked across his asshole through the silken barrier. He reached down and lifted Freddie up as he stood, bringing them both to their feet. His lips tangled with Freddie’s, getting the taste of his own arousal into his mouth as he maneuvered them across the room and up onto the bed. When Freddie made to lay down, Steve stopped him.

“Can’t leave a lady out, man,” Steve said as he adjusted where Freddie was positioned. Now Freddie was straddling his wife’s face and his cock and balls were right against her mouth. Steve heard her moaning, which was instantly muffled as Freddie’s hips rolled forward. He grinned as he reached over to the bottle warmer they kept beside the bed and pumped a slick of lube into his palm. He watched Freddie rubbing himself back and forth against Cath’s mouth as he reached down and began to rub his lubed fingers against Freddie’s hole, pulling the leg hole of his jockeys to the side. The moan Freddie replied with was a filthy sound that had Cath jerking her hand faster between her legs. One finger became two as he worked Freddie open, finally hearing Cath and Freddie start talking.

“Fuck, Steve, this is the best fucking idea I think you’ve ever had. I can feel you pushing his cock against my mouth. I can taste him through the silk … stretch him open, sweetheart,” Cath said to him, licking her way across Freddie’s cockhead. “He’s gonna fuck you wide open, baby. He’s gonna stretch you wide enough to take him and he’s gonna pound your ass. I’m gonna suck you off while he fucks you … you like that, Sailor? You want to skullfuck me while our lover cums inside your ass?”

Steve’s hands were shaking as he slid a third finger in and hooked them against the prostate. He felt like he could cum just from hearing them, just from how hot Freddie’s ass was and how slick Cath’s cunt was. His own hand pouring more lube into Freddie, making him as wet as his wife. It wasn’t necessarily an unwritten rule but it was an unspoken one. Steve always fucked Freddie or Cath in the ass or mouth; he never came inside Cath’s pussy. That was reserved for Freddie and all three of them knew why. Even the tiniest chance of pregnancy was too much to risk.

“Pound my ass, Sir. Gimme that cock and fuck my wife’s mouth using my dick,” Freddie growled and Steve responded. He climbed up behind Freddie and lined his cock up with the now well stretched hole. Still holding the jockeys to the side, he teased the head against Freddie’s hole and rubbed back and forth, lubing his own cock up. He could look over Freddie’s shoulder and he could see his cock was still trapped inside the shorts with Catherine sucking and licking through the thin material. The constriction of silk against his balls only added to the pleasure as he pressed his thumbs on either side of Freddie’s hole and opened him up … sliding all the way in with one, long, agonizingly slow stroke. The groan from both of them was music to his ears.

“Sir, I believe I asked for a pounding not a strategic op,” Freddie’s sarcasm was heavy as Steve bottomed out inside of him. He smirked as he slapped the side of Freddie’s ass.

“I believe you’ll take what you’re given, Hart." He remained perfectly still, feeling Catherine moving underneath the both of them. Her lips were caressing every inch of her husband’s cock and it was a beautiful vision. Both of their faces were a wreck of want and desire. Both of them were sweaty and panting, grinding against Steve until finally he pulled out, leaving just the head inside the ring of muscle. “You wanted a pounding, Sailor?”

Steve snapped his hips forward, burying his generous length deep inside his lover with one push and forcing his cock down onto Cath’s mouth. Both of them grunted with surprise as he pulled back and repeated the same snap. He set a pace that had Freddie’s hole loosening with every push and had Cath’s hands holding onto Freddie’s asscheeks so she could hold him open. Steve reached back, resting his palms between Cath’s legs behind him and used the change in angle to leverage his cock right up against Freddie’s prostate. He was ruthless as he fucked him, listening to the gasps and moans and feeling his hole start to tighten around his length.

“I’m gonna make you cum in your pants, Hart. I’m gonna make you cum right inside those silk jockeys while your wife licks you through them. You gonna cum like that, Freddie? Inside your panties, just for me and your wife?” Steve taunted Freddie, snapping his hips harder. He could hear Freddie getting close, knew by the pattern of his breathing. He heard Catherine grunt as her orgasm hit and, with one last push, he emptied himself deep inside Freddie’s ass as Freddie filled his jockeys. They remained like that for a few minutes until Steve carefully eased himself out of Freddie and collapsed on the bed beside Cath, Freddie falling over to the other side.

“I’m so buying you both like a dozen more pairs,” Cath said, giggling and both men joined her.

#

“You’re absolutely sure about this intel, Bullfrog?” Steve was looking at a schematic of a village they were being deployed to and it was different from the one he’d received when they’d gotten their orders.

“As sure as I am of the two ex-wives I’ve already collected,” replied the slightly ginger haired man in front of him, a hint of southern twang still lingering in his East Texas accent. Nick Taylor had been with Steve’s SEAL team for two years and he’d proven himself a master of getting information desperately needed in a short amount of time. He’d never once led them anywhere except where they were supposed to be. Steve flicked his eyes over to his superior officer, Commander Joe White, in order to get a feel for his interpretation. They were supposed to be heading into a village that the Taliban used to hide their weaponry and take the arsenal down. A map had been given to them by Naval Intelligence, showing the outline of the village and where the weapons cache was being stored. Nick handed over a map that was of the same village but indicating a rear infiltration would be more advantageous.

“Why are we going in from this direction? What’s the advantage?” Joe asked, looking at the comparison of the two maps.

“Word is, they got tipped the Doom Squad was coming in and they moved the weapons. They think we’re coming in here,” Nick pointed to another village, approximately three klicks away, “and won’t get back to us in time to save their weapons. We can be in and out, fast and clean.”

Steve nodded, smiling up at Nick. “Good work, Bullfrog. I like fast and clean, but I’ll take quick and dirty just the same.” Behind him, he heard Freddie choke on his coffee and he turned, concern masking his amusement.

“You alright, Gecko?” Freddie’s nickname, from almost their first day at BUD/s had been Gecko because of his ability to adapt to any situation and make the best of it. Steve teased him (in the privacy of their bedroom) that it was because his cock liked to hide in Steve’s ass. Of course, use of the name, combined with the mention of quick and dirty, had Freddie spluttering his coffee. Steve managed to control his facial features while everyone else on the team laughed.

“Alright gentlemen. Let’s get this map memorized and screw our balls on tight. We leave in ten days and I do not want a single thing missed,” Steve said and everyone instantly sobered, slipping into their respective SEAL responsibilities.

#

Steve looked up from where he was sipping his coffee to see Freddie and Cath stumbling into the kitchen. They were smiling and touching and soon, he found himself in the center of their loving touches. Cath’s hands on his shoulders, Freddie’s lips on his own. Whispered good mornings and brushes of skin before they each went to pour their own coffee. It was a typical deployment morning; they’d had a marathon session of making love the night before and Steve could feel the looseness in his muscles as well as the little echo of how hard he’d cum … both times. Last night, Catherine had rode the both of them and, when Steve felt Freddie’s cock sliding into his wife while he was buried in her ass, he’d lost control of his senses and his vision whited out with the sheer pleasure of feeling both of them moving on his cock. Leaning across Cath’s shoulder, Steve and Freddie were making out while they fucked their lover and she’d whispered to both of them how much she loved them. They’d both replied the same, feeling the love and devotion between all three of them. Steve had found over the last five years that he wasn’t a third wheel. He’d found that he could be open with his lovers and they would comfort him. When Jack had died, both Freddie and Cath had come with him to Hawaii (admittedly, only he and Freddie had leave. Cath pulled a string or two and had herself temporarily assigned to Pearl). They’d both helped him to bury his father, never asking questions of who he met with while he was on the island.

When the funeral was over, he was surprised to find Captain Fryer approaching him. It had been sixteen years since he’d seen the man who helped him to become a SEAL and he was just as acerbic and sharp as ever. His glances between Cath, Freddie, and Steve himself showed that he’d picked up on what the Navy had willfully ignored for sixteen years. Steve braced himself for the rebuke and was pleasantly surprised when it didn’t come. He assumed it was out of respect for his fathter’s passing but, as usual, Fryer was sharp.

“I do not ask, you do not tell. But it’s good to see you happy, McGarrett.”

Steve took a second to realize what Fryer was implicating and broke out into a goofy grin, relief letting his heart beat come back down to normal. They went to lunch and Fryer regaled both Freddie and Cath all the stories of when Steve was getting in shape for the Teams. Sadly, he also had photographic proof that he was more than happy to lay out when they returned to his house. Steve enjoyed the time in Hawaii but keeping Cath and Freddie away from ‘Auana was difficult and he was almost grateful when their leave was up and he was heading back to California. He took one last stop by the clubhouse, the morning before they were flying out, to see the official swearing in of Chin Ho Kelly as Jack’s successor. It had been discussed at length when Steve heard about his father dying and, because of his commitment to the Navy, he’d passed on returning to the club for now. Chin Ho had assured him, much as Uncle Duke and his father had, that his cut would still be waiting.

He looked at the two of them across from him at the table and rolled his eyes playfully.

“Your gear all packed?”

Freddie grinned and mock saluted Steve. “Aye, aye, Sir. Gear is packed, stowed and ready to be flown. Just tryin to figure out how to get this last necessity into my duffel.”

“She’s pretty flexible. I bet we could pin her legs up over her ears and fold he-OoF!” Steve gasped as all the oxygen was pushed out of his lungs by a ‘Rollins Lovetap’, which was similar to a haymaker but aimed for the sternum.

“Your days of pinning me anywhere are suspended until your safe return,” Cath teased, kissing each of them. She stood from the table and came around, nuzzling her face against Steve’s neck.

“I’ll be counting them,” she finished, kissing his temple, much as she had Freddie’s. “I love you boys.”

#

“So, how do you feel about pitter patter?” Freddie asked from where they were seated side by side in the back of a cargo plane. They were somewhere over Turkey, having left London six hours earlier. They had another six hours to go before they were on the ground and Steve couldn’t sleep. There was something in the back of his head but he couldn’t quite place it.

“The pitter patter of a machine gun or the pitter patter of little feet?” Steve asked, half sarcastically. When Freddie answered ‘feet’, Steve stopped cold and looked at Freddie. There was a sparkle in his eye and also, a hopefulness. A hopefulness of acceptance.

“Are we anticipating pitter or patter any time in the next few months? Because, I gotta say, that’s not a lot of time to get a house for all of us, get it baby proofed, buy new furniture, and not get killed by your wife when her hormones go ballistic.”

Freddie laughed and clapped Steve on the shoulder, his smile going from ear to ear.

“We’re SEALs, Steve. There’s no such thing as impossible. However, you can rest assured that we are not currently under siege. It’s something Cath and I were talking about and we wanted your input. Since this would affect you too, Uncle Steve,” Freddie half whispered and Steve felt his heart twitch. An Uncle. An uncle to his two lovers’ child. SEALs don’t cry but they sometimes suffer an allergy to minute particles of dust and that’s what happened just at that moment. He had a very real allergy attack to dust … or pollen … it may have been the onions in someone’s sandwich. But SEALs do not cry.

“It’d mean I’d have to leave the Teams. It makes more sense for me to take a job stateside so I can be around for the baby,” Freddie stated, making it sound like more of a question.

“Yeah, absolutely. I can ask around, I heard something about a trainer position opening up now that White is retiring. Maybe you can go scar some new BUD/s candidates into being good enough to protect your daughter.”

Half whispered, almost too low to hear, Freddie mouthed, “Our children.”

Fuckin dust was everywhere on this plane.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this took forever. Albert went quiet for a while and then I just got swept up in work. But here we are ... Please bring tissues. I'm so sorry for this chapter but it had to be done. 
> 
> Next chapter will bring us up to the first chapter of Sound of Engines.

Steve knew from the minute his feet touched the ground this was going to go bad. He had a feeling; something wasn’t right and this was all gonna go sideways. He signaled for his men to flank out and surround the village, moving towards where Bullfrog’s intel had indicated the weapons cache was being held. It was pitch black and not even the wind was stirring around. There was an eerie calm that had Steve signaling to Taylor to fall back and circle around the perimeter. He saw Taylor’s face; he couldn’t do anything in time.

The night exploded around them, turning pitch black into white fire and tearing across the sand. Taylor had turned, disappearing into the darkness and Steve could hear everyone around him ducking for cover while trying to return fire. He ducked behind a building, sliding down to his stomach to make himself as small a target as possible so he could follow where the fire was coming from. It took him a minute but eventually, he followed the path of a bullet back to it’s nest and one shot of his sidearm took care of that one. Quickly identifying where his men were, Steve tracked where they weren’t and went after the shooters, all the while keeping himself aware of his surroundings and tracking where Taylor could have disappeared to. Two more shooters fell to his sidearm and he could hear his team as they ended the fire-fight and re-grouped. He was turning in that direction when every part of his world collapsed. 

Freddie’s body lay in the sand like a broken and forgotten doll, presumably one of the first victims of the ambush. Steve grabbed him, pulling Freddie to safety behind a hut and checked him for a pulse. There was a voice screaming in the back of his head; a beast clawing it’s way towards the surface but he couldn’t give in. He was a United States Navy SEAL and he would do as he was trained. He would check the body for signs of life, clean any usable ammunition and supplies from the body and continue the fight until they were extracted. He was mechanical, methodical; ammo was gathered, identifying patches removed, supplies secured. This was a body. This was a shell. This was a SEAL and his remains would not be left behind.

The beast inside his head was scratching and clawing it’s way forward. His hands shook as he gathered the body (he couldn’t think of the name. Think of the name releases the beast. The body was property of the government) and there was a tightness in his throat that he couldn’t quite identify. His peripheral vision pulsated in time with his heartbeat and, as he gathered the body into his arms, his knees buckled and he found himself on the ground. He found himself staring into the face of the man he had loved more deeply than any relationship he’d ever known. The man who had gotten him through BUD/s, who’d gotten him through the Academy, who’d gotten him fall down, piss drunk for the first time. The man to whom he had given his heart; the man who’d taught him it was all right to love and to depend on someone else. He looked at the closed eyes, the parted lips, and the pallor of death that clung to both. He dug his fingers into the flak jacket, pulling the cooling body towards him and allowed the beast to mourn. He allowed his heart to rule over his SEAL training. 

The next thing Steve remembered was being held against the side of a building by two fellow SEALs while Nick Taylor lay on the ground, gasping for air and struggling against the weight of Petty Officer Reese as he pushed his knees deep into Taylor’s shoulders. Hicks and Rodriguez were holding him back, straining against his forward motion and he could hear one of them calling out to him. He could hear someone yelling his name but the beast was louder; roaring in his ears as his eyes fixed on the man responsible for (FreddieOhGodFreddiePleaseNotFreddie) the deaths of his SEALs. He powered his way forward, shaking Rodriguez free and dragging Hicks along with him as he struggled to reach Nick Taylor. He could see his death. He could see Nick’s body and knew exactly how he was going to die. Steve’s left hand reached for the blade at his side, only to discover it missing. He turned an accusatory eye towards Hicks, who had adjusted his hold and was dragging Steve to the ground. 

“Commander! Commander, you can’t. He doesn’t deserve to die. It’s too easy. Too clean. He’s not good enough for the Reaper,” Hicks was saying as he pinned Steve to the ground. Steve looked up at the kid, seeing the truth in his eyes. He blinked, taking a deep breath, and shoved the beast back into it’s cage. He was Steven John McGarrett, Lieutenant Commander of SEAL Team Five and he would execute his responsibilities. 

“Let me up, Hicks. I gotta call for evac and get us the fuck out of here.”

#

The beast roared, day and night, but Steve kept it locked away. He stood before his commanding officers and explained what had happened. He stood beside the casket as it was lowered into the ground. He stood beside Cath, the strength she needed to get through finalizing Freddie’s life. He was meticulous and attentive, every detail attended to with a laser-like focus. When Cath pulled away, he nodded that he understood. When he arrived at the apartment he’d been renting but not living in for the last two years, it took him four days to clean the dust, dirt, and debris from every surface. He scrubbed his floors on his hands and knees until his skin cracked from the chemicals he was using to wash with. Then he put on gloves and continued. Every day, he called Cath and left her a message. Every day he sent her a text message. She never responded to any of them. He stopped by the house a few times, but couldn’t bring himself to approach the door. He still had his key and most of his things were in the house but he couldn’t bring himself to go inside. That wasn’t his home anymore. He could feel the rejection even outside the walls. 

Twenty-two days after coming back from the mission, Steve had finally worked up the courage to see Cath. He knew his time in the service was ending; despite the botched mission, his attack on Taylor was being viewed as attempted murder. There were deliberations as to whether civilian charges should be filed but Commander White was pushing back, allowing for him to retire instead of prosecution. At this point, Steve didn’t care one way or the other. He wanted to get Cath and bring her home; bring her to Hawaii. They were broken, irrevocably, but Steve hoped that they could heal together. He’d called and left her a message early that morning and let her know that he was coming by and he’d bring her coco puffs. For the first time in weeks, Steve had some hope that something was going to improve; that his life was turning for the better. 

He let himself in, calling out to Catherine. The house … the house was too still. Too still like the night in Afghanistan. Too still like Freddie’s body had been. Steve blinked back the moisture in his eyes and forced his feet, each of which now weighed at least five-hundred pounds, to move through the house. His fingers dug into his palms as he moved through every room of the house, unconsciously avoiding the bedroom. There was a smell in the house; a smell that he was too familiar with. There was a sticky sweet aroma, heavy with the bitter tang of whiskey, in the air and finally he was standing in front of the master bedroom door. His hand on the knob, he closed his eyes and remembered his life here. He remembered Cath and Freddie, when they’d awkwardly invited him to their bed. He remembered the look on Catherine’s face when he’d gone down on Freddie for the first time. He remembered laying in bed, crying, as he confessed what he’d done to Mary and feeling them cradle him and protect him. 

He turned the knob.

Her dark hair was a tangled mess on the pink-stained sheets. The covers were pulled up around her body and, for the briefest of moments, Steve allowed himself to believe she was just sleeping. A smile tried to come to his lips as he looked at her face, peaceful and soft. But the pink stains on the sheets weren’t right and the smell in the room left nothing to the imagination. He scanned the room, critically as possible, and saw the two empty bottles of whiskey laying in the bed beside her. His eyes came to the nightstand, empty bottles of pills stacked haphazardly beside the bottle warmer. He watched for a full minute, never once seeing her chest rise or fall. His hand was dialing his phone before he finished closing the door behind him and he was reporting his discovery to the police. By the time the police arrived and he’d been questioned, Steve let go of his Naval career. He let go of the previous twenty years of his life, most of which had included Freddie. He knew it was time to go home.

#

“… allowed to retire with your full pension and no civilian charges will be filed,” the Admiral of the Navy was saying to Steve. They’d reached a decision regarding his career and they’d decided it was better to let him retire than to face the inquiry that would involve an investigation by the public. He was being allowed to retire, quietly and efficiently. His military record was sealed and his Top Secret clearance was revoked. Commander White was with him as he finalized his paperwork and was the only man to salute as he left the Admiral’s office. 

He’d buried Cath two days ago. He was still processing her death when he’d heard Taylor was being transferred to Leavenworth in Kansas. 

He added Nick Taylor’s name to his mental list.


	9. Chapter 9

Even before he stepped off the plane, something inside of Steve settled. He’d spent the better part of the last six months clearing his head enough to come back to Hawaii and deal with the ghosts of his past. Without the Navy (no we will not think of Freddie or Cath) Steve was adrift; but it was very freeing for him. He was able to pack up his life on the mainland and prepare for a life back home; a life that would include the ‘Auana. He took the time he needed to make sure everything about his life on the mainland was dealt with and he boarded a plane out of LAX, heading for Honolulu. The flight brought back memories, both good and bad, but it wasn’t until the wheels touched down that he felt it. A jagged edge finally giving way to the smooth erosion of time. There was still something missing but Steve was finally home. The lei he was offered made him choke up for a moment; the flowers were Sonia orchids. When Cath had arrived at Pearl, Freddie had made a point to find a lei and give it to her when she de-planed and it had also been Sonia orchids. He closed his eyes for a moment and felt a breeze slide across his skin, similar to the way Freddie would slide his hand over Steve’s shoulders before pulling him in for a kiss. He reveled in the feeling and allowed it to ease his mind. They were here with him; a part of his story that could never be erased. He accepted the lei, returning the ‘Aloha’, and made his way to the exit. He hadn’t brought any luggage with him, had packed away everything from his life in the Navy and was ready to face whatever the world could throw at him. He took a cab to the Hilton, checking in for two nights, and collapsed in bed for the next sixteen hours.

Waking up was a surreal experience. His nose picked up the smell of home before his brain had even had time to process it. He’d been having a nightmare (again) of trying to find Freddie except this time, they were in the Dole fields instead of some no-name village in some redacted country. He came awake with a start, automatically reaching for the gun he no longer carried before remembering the Navy had taken it back. He looked around the room before falling back into the mattress, confirming with a glance at his phone, that it was somewhere near dawn. He lay there a moment longer, thinking of Freddie and Cath; thinking of the life they’d had and the love they’d shared. He remembered that first night that he and Freddie had kissed (which led to other things) and the first night he and Freddie had been together. He remembered the night he and Freddie had returned to campus past curfew and had to run the quad for the next week (and hadn’t he chewed Freddie out for that one. If he’d have let Steve drive, they’d have made the curfew). He tucked all his tender memories of Freddie and Cath into a compartment in his head and pushed the door shut. There were the final thoughts of the past twenty years of his life. He pushed himself from the bed and went through his morning workout, minus the run, before showering quickly and re-dressing in yesterday’s clothes. Once downstairs, he grabbed a taxi and gave the address to his old house. 

It rolled off his tongue as though he said it every day and stabbed him in the chest, “My parent’s house. 44-601 Kaneohe Bay Drive.” The driver didn’t comment or even seem to notice Steve’s reaction to saying the address again after these years. He nodded and pulled out into traffic.

When the taxi pulled up to the house, Steve had a moment of déjà vu so intense, he had to bite his cheek to center himself. The view was exactly the same, right down to the bushes his mother had planted at the front of the house (albeit, slightly overgrown) and the subtle 81 carved into the concrete at the foot of the driveway. He thanked the driver, paid him with a hefty tip, and walked up to the fence, entering the security code. The fence creaked as it opened and Steve was looking at his childhood home, trying not to think of his childhood. It was just a little bit surreal but he walked down the driveway, noticing that someone must have kept up with the house because the grass wasn’t wild and there was no debris in the yard. His eyes swept the property as he stepped up the landing to the door and then again as he used the key he’d kept with him to open the door. The smell of dust whooshed out the door and he sneezed twice as the air was disturbed. It was clear no one had been inside the house since around the time of his father’s funeral. Chin Ho had told him, at the time, they would close up the house but he’d always assumed the club was using the house occasionally for guests. From the layer of dust he’d just kicked up, Steve was realizing he’d been wrong. 

As he walked through the house, opening windows and doors for everything to air out, he remembered flashes of his life here. Watching his parents dancing together on the lanai, the club dinners they hosted, chasing Mary across the sand and throwing her in the ocean. The blood being washed down the drain as he helped his mother clean a bullet wound his father had gotten. The sound of his mother laughing. The sound of Mary crying. The emptiness after it was all gone. He was methodical, as though opening the house were a military operation, save for one exception. He couldn’t bring himself to open the door to Mary’s room because he was terrified it would be exactly the same as the night she’d been drugged and shipped to Missouri. The rest of the house, however, he scrubbed and polished until the house looked like the home it had once been. He knew he couldn’t bring back anyone in his family but he could at least honour the memory of who they had been by actually living. 

***

It had taken two months for him to finally finish the house. He’d gotten rid of the old furniture and bought new, save for a few pieces. He replaced the flooring with native wooden plank, and painted every room white. A few times he heard engines idling at the top of his driveway but no one came to the door. He knew Chin Ho was still President and had sent a message letting him know he was returning to the island but hadn’t made any contact since his arrival. He wasn’t ready yet; he needed to have his place settled so he had a connection to the island and his home. He surfed every day and familiarized himself with a few locals, he ate moco loco from a place by the beach and laughed as he remembered the last time he’d had loco moco had been back in the ‘Stan with whatever ingredients he could get his hands on in order to convince his buddy Danny that it was street food. Danny came from New York and claimed it as the home of street food and a friendly rivalry had sprung between them. They were assigned to the same unit, despite Danny being in the Rangers, for a special op and they bonded almost instantly. It didn’t take long to find out that Danny and Steve had come from the same lifestyle, wearing the Red and White. Danny’s great-great grandfather had been one of the founding members of the seven infamous gangs of New York, The Dead Rabbits out of the Five Points neighborhood. As the gangs broke apart around the turn of the century, his great-grandfather had founded a social club he called the Blue Bloods and eventually, they came under the umbrella of the Red and White a few years after his grandfather had come home from World War Two. The Regan Clan owned the state of New York under the banner of the Blue Blood MC but they lived out in Bay Ridge. Steve and Danny had kept in touch after Danny had gotten orders home and they touched base once or twice a year. He’d sent his condolences when he heard about his ol’ lady Linda being diagnosed with Stage Four cancer and passing away three weeks after the original diagnosis. He’d meant to try and get up to New York after he left the Navy but just never made it that far east. 

By the time the house was finished and Steve felt like he was ready, he reached out to Chin Ho by phone. “Aloha, McGarrett,” Chin Ho answered the phone, sounding pleased. 

“Aloha, Kelly,” Steve answered, laughing.

“Howzit, brah?”

“It’s good, brah, all good. I’ve heard you guys around but haven’t seen anyone come to the house,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I figured you’d want your distance and your peace for a while. Wasn’t sure if you came back to ride or not so I didn’t want to presume.”

“Lots of ghosts up here needed cleaning out.”

“Da kine, bruddah. So what can I do for you?” Chin Ho could convey any emotion he wanted into a few syllables and Steve smiled at the understanding.

“I’d like to be considered for a place in the ‘Auana. It’s been twenty years but I know it’s home,” Steve responded. He waited a beat and he heard Chin moving in the background.

“And I’m looking at a cut that looks like it just might fit you. Might even have your name on it.”

Steve grinned as he answered, “Please tell me you’re fucking with me, brah. Don’t tell me they put my fuckin name on the cut.”

“You’ll have to come in and see it. When’s good for you?”

Steve took a moment to consider before answering, “How about Thursday morning? I want to see if I can get Dad’s Chief running.”

“Sounds good. I’ll have Danno join us. He’s my 1st Officer, came here from Jersey a couple years ago with his little girl. He’s haole but you won’t find a better guy to have at your back.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome home.”

Steve ended the call and felt that last jagged piece smooth over. 

He was home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I'm a bad writer for not updating ... I'm sorry.

The first time Steve saw the clubhouse on his return was the following Thursday and when he came up the road, he had to stop and catch his breath. Everything rushed at him, including being told to wait at home by his father the night his mother had been killed. He thought about all the laughter that had come out of that building, as well as all the blood. He remembered riding on the back of this very same Indian he was riding now, arms wrapped around his father’s waist and holding on while they tore through the pineapple fields, the burn chasing right behind them. The heat and the smell were overwhelming but he knew he was safe because his father would always protect him.  
His knuckles cracked before he’d even realized he’d made a fist. Always protect him. That was a fucking joke. He mailed him off to the Navy and sent Mary to die fifty miles west of nowhere. His anger rolled through him and he stomped it back down, letting himself slip into SEAL mode. He was here to move forward, not to wallow in the past. He righted the bike once again and finished the ride over the hill and down to the club itself, pulling the bike into it’s customary spot in front of the building. He took a breath and swung his leg over the seat, pocketing the keys just as the door opened and Chin Ho Kelly was walking out the door with a wide smile and open arms.   
“Brah,” he said in greeting, wrapping his arms around Steve and hugging him close.   
Steve hadn’t realized how tense his body was until he felt Chin’s acceptance. He returned the hug, allowing the spirit of aloha to fill him and enjoying the tender breeze that blew over the back of his head, like a warm hand, lovingly caressing someone that hasn’t been seen in a long while.   
“Good to see you again, my friend. C’mon inside. Danno left my house about an hour ago so he should be here soon,” Chin said as he indicated the doors.   
Steve braced himself and, sure enough, the first step over the threshold and he was six years old all over again and his father had just opened this building. His eyes naturally went up to the wall in front of the door and he saw where his father’s vest was proudly displayed underneath the original banner that he and Steve’s mother had hung during the first meeting. He approached the glass cabinet, almost forgetting about everything else as he looked up and saw his father’s vest along with something … Steve had another sudden onset SEAL allergy attack and he was grateful Chin Ho had gone to his office and allowed Steve a moment alone.   
Jack McGarrett’s vest was displayed in the case along with his mother’s leather that proclaimed her “Presidential Property” as well as “First Lady”. That was expected; the medium sized brass urn with a picture of Mary, laughing with her eyes wide open, on the other side of the cut was not. Steve had never reached out to Max after releasing his sister’s body to him; never followed up on what arrangements he’d made. He’d quietly made inquiries and found Max’s bank account information, transferring $25,000 to the account to help with whatever expenses his sister had and put it out of his mind.   
He heard voices in the bullpen area and he turned to make his way to the President’s office. Chin was still alone, his face blank as he flipped through some papers. Steve made to sit but he couldn’t stay still so he rose up to pace the office for a few minutes.  
“Did you guys ask for Mary’s picture or did it get sent?”  
“Your father had that picture in here when her cremains were delivered, along with your mother’s leathers. He put them in the safe over there,” Chin said, pointing over his shoulder before continuing, “and when we were putting his vest up, he’d left instructions for Mary and Doris to be placed with him as the Founding Family. There’s a picture of you as well but unless I heard otherwise, I kept that picture in the safe. Maybe I thought it was my way of ….” Chin’s voice trailed off as he looked out the window and he smirked. Steve had never seen Chin smirk. Steve never wanted to see him smirk like that again.  
“Danno’s here.”  
Less than two minutes later, a human hand-grenade strode into the room and every molecule in Steve’s body came to an abrupt halt. The man who strode into the room (and never before in Steve’s life had anyone really defined the word strode until just now) was on the shorter side of average but his presence took up everything around him. There was power, arrogance, confidence, and a warmth about the way he moved, slinking down into a chair and crossing his arms. The way his muscles bunched up under his shoulders had Steve hypnotised and it took him a second to catch up to the conversation but he managed to hide it behind a casual demeanor. He cleared his throat before speaking, “I’m not a superhero and God doesn’t have anything on me.”  
He watched as the shorter man turned and appraised him. He caught a glimpse of eyes the color of worn denim as they raked across his body from the toes up and he could actually feel the man’s gaze. “Those eyes are gonna be the death of me,” he thought to himself as he caught the keys that were tossed his way. The guy had balls, Steve would give him that. But he wasn’t about to give up his Dad’s spot either. He smirked as he watched the smaller man cringe, realizing who he was. He took the opportunity to give him the once over and instantly regretted it. He swiftly pushed himself free of the wall and sat down in one of the chairs; it was easier to hide a half-hard cock while sitting down. And not thinking about having the other man sitting on his lap. Not thinking about his ass at all. But Steve also hadn’t had sex with anyone but himself for the last eighteen months. But when Chin spoke, he tuned himself into the conversation and, when Chin stood up and walked back to the safe, he had to swallow several times when he returned carrying Steve’s cut.   
Steve reached out, running his hands over the familiar leather and unfamiliar patches. Anyone outside ‘Auana saw this cut, they’d think something was wrong. Prospect with a full patch? No, those things didn’t exist in the world but it occurred to him that the plan had always been for him to come home again so maybe Dad had the patches put on. When he slid the cut over his shoulders, there was a light breeze that came through the open window and surrounded him for a moment and he felt as though finally, after twenty years, he was home. He welcomed Chin’s embrace and, as he turned toward Danno, the man pulled him into an unexpected embrace. He felt the power in the shorter man’s body and he allowed himself to be pulled into his arms.   
As they left Chin’s office, he felt the eyes of everyone in the bullpen staring at him. He knew his vest was an oddity. From the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar face. He was wracking his brain trying to remember when she embraced Danno and he called her ‘surf girl’. This was Kono … something. She’d been a professional surfer and Steve had seen her compete a few times. When she turned, her smile was as blinding as he remembered. And when Danno joked about his being a stray, Steve felt a moment like when Freddie would get on his ass. He’d missed that and it was habit to respond in kind. When Danno flailed his arms and dared him to speak English, a tiny piece of Steve’s heart chipped.


End file.
